


Love, Lies, & Lap Dances

by CLeighWrites



Series: Wincest Big Bang 2019 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bickering, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Bobby Singer's House, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Brother/Brother Incest, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Dean Winchester Makes Sacrifices For Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Dean Winchester is a Cowboy Stripper, Dom Sam Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Escort Dean Winchester, F/M, Frottage, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hypothermia, M/M, Making Up, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Masturbation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Parental Bobby Singer, Prostitution, Requited Unrequited Love, Sam Winchester is Loved, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Stanford Era (Supernatural), Stanford Student Sam Winchester, Stripper Dean Winchester, Switching, Top Sam Winchester, Unrequited Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, dean is a sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 11:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites
Summary: Sam was a freshman at Stanford who had no idea how his big brother was paying for him to live off-campus. Dean was a part-time escort and a full-time liar. How will Sam react when he finds out exactly how Dean has been paying for everything since they left their dad behind?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love, Lies, & Lap Dances Art Post](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21136640) by [Bluefire986](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluefire986/pseuds/Bluefire986). 

> This is my 2019 Wincest Big Bang and was edited by the most fantastical Michelle (@mrswhozeewhatsis on Tumblr) with a beta assist from Kym (@deanwinchesterswitch on Tumblr) Without them, only Chuck knows what this would have turned out to be!  
Art by [Bluefire986](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Bluefire986/pseuds/Bluefire986)! See her work [here!](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/21136640)  

> 
> [](https://imgur.com/FafNKFk)  
  


  
[ ](https://imgur.com/dCstJ2x)

Sam’s neck was getting sore from sitting, hunched over his book, studying for the last two hours. He had to focus; he had to make his brother proud. Sure, he had scholarships that covered his tuition, books, and other purchases made on campus, but Dean was paying his rent to live off-campus and had even given him a car. Dean had winked and jabbed an elbow into his side when he told him that the backseat was spacious enough if he needed to get out of the house for a date. Sam had laughed him off. He was a scholarship kid at _Stanford_, he wouldn’t have time to even think about dating. 

There was a light knock just before his door opened and one of his roommates, Brady, walked in. “You gonna study all night? Come on, man. Live a little!” Brady flipped Sam’s book shut, narrowly missing his fingers in the process.

Sam heaved out a breath and turned to face his new friend. “Brady, I have to study. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship. I can’t-”

“Look, dude, going out for a night every now and then, isn’t going to cause you to flunk out of your classes. Trust me.” Brady gave him a smirk and started to wiggle his eyebrows at him when Sam didn’t immediately denounce his claim. 

They had been having the same conversation every Friday night for the last three months since school started in August. Brady was a sophomore studying business, while Sam was a freshman shooting for pre-law, but they had hit it off fairly quickly. Sam had spent most of his childhood with his dad and brother moving from town to town as his dad worked odd jobs here and there. They were never in one place for longer than a month, except sometimes when they would get to spend the summer at their Uncle Bobby’s house in South Dakota. Sam was a really smart kid, and a little socially awkward, so he had never really had the time to make friends since they would move just when Sam was getting comfortable in a place. That was until Sam turned 16, and he and Dean had split off on their own, settling down in Poughkeepsie. Brady was probably Sam’s first real best friend, aside from Dean-- but brothers don’t count. 

“I don’t even know anyone who’s going to be there.” Sam was hesitant to go only because of the stories he'd heard about things that happened at college parties, and none of it appealed to him.

“That’s not true. Jess is gonna be there.” Brady paused dramatically. “She even asked me if you were coming.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, she’s in my Intro to Psych class.” 

“Dude. ‘She’s in my Intro to Psych class’,” he mocked. “Jess is fucking hot.” He looked at Sam like it had escaped his notice. “And she’s asking about you,” he added when Sam didn’t seem to care.

“I know she’s hot, I have eyes. We’ve talked a couple of times in class, but I don’t see why you’re freaking out because she asked about me.” Sam stood and walked over to his closet since he clearly wasn’t going to be getting any more studying done with Brady sitting on his desk, blocking his books. 

“Sammy-”

“It’s Sam.”

“Look, Sam. You’re new here, and clearly out of your league. When a hot girl asks someone that she knows is going to see you if you’re going to be at a party, she wants to know that she’s going to see you there.” 

Sam’s a little stunned, he never thought that anyone would ever notice him like that. Sure, he’d had a few girls that he’d gotten somewhat close to when he and Dean were in Poughkeepsie, but he’d never actually dated anyone. The closest he had ever gotten was with a girl named Amy, but her mom was a religious nut and took her out of public school when she found out that they had been hanging out together at the library after school. To be fair, they hadn’t exactly been studying.

“Why me?” Sam was genuinely curious. There was nothing remarkable about him, aside from his freakish tallness. He didn’t have the chiseled jaw-line or broad shoulders or the rugged handsomeness like his brother did. He was just a lanky, shaggy-haired boy. 

“Dude, I’m totally not being gay, but you’re not exactly bad to look at. Chicks totally dig the hot nerd thing, too.”

Sam took a second to glance at his reflection. He noticed that his shirt sleeves clung a little tighter around his arms and that he was losing the baby fat in his face. His arms were more defined than he remembered them being; maybe he wasn’t as lanky as he had always thought he was. “Okay, but even if she is interested, like that, I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“Jess is the kind of girl that will let you know what she wants. You won’t have to do anything. We’re heading out in twenty.” Brady shot him a wink before shutting his door and leaving him alone to contemplate what was going to happen at this party. 

****

They had been there for two hours and Sam was bored. They had made the rounds, seeing people they knew, their other roommates and their girlfriends, a few people from class, making small talk with each of them for a few minutes before moving on. Brady had handed Sam a beer, which he was still drinking, even though it had gotten warm. He had no interest in drinking; he never really saw the point of it. Dean used to sneak a couple of bottles of beer out to a swimming hole where they would do night swims, they would get a little tipsy and splash around in the water. They were good memories, but the beer had nothing to do with how he remembered them. 

It was almost midnight by the time Sam had had enough. Jessica either wasn’t coming or was there and wasn’t interested in seeing him. He nodded to Brady from across a long table where a dozen or so people were playing flip cup, letting him know that he was heading out. Brady shrugged his shoulders and waved him off. Sam turned and ran into someone; his arms reached out instinctively, grabbing hold of whomever he’d almost run over. There was a loud giggle, then warm hands wrapped around his forearms.

“I thought I might have to try a little harder! I didn’t think you’d be this easy.” 

Sam looked down and saw that he had literally run into Jessica, her blue eyes shining up at him. He jerked his arms back and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, uh, sorry.” _Smooth, Sam_, he chastised himself.

She kept one of her hands on his arm and gave him a squeeze. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Sam felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and he ducked his head down, using his hair as a shield from his embarrassment. “Right.” He couldn’t help but grin. 

“God, you’re even cuter when you’re flustered.” She stepped in close, putting her mouth right next to Sam’s ear, and he leaned in closer to her. “I like seeing you flustered,” she whispered, causing the hair on Sam’s neck to bristle. 

Sam swallowed. “Oh, yeah?” He watched as she leaned back slightly and openly ogled him. 

“Oh, yeah,” she confirmed. Brady had been right; Sam didn’t have to do a damn thing. He was just along for the ride. “You’ve got a car, don’t you? Did you drive here tonight?” 

“Yeah, it’s a ‘70s Caprice Classic. My brother fixed it up for me after he got our dad’s Impala.” 

“Old school muscle.” She squeezed Sam’s bicep and looked him in the eye. “I like the sound of that.”

“Would you like to go for a ride sometime?” Sam let his voice drop with his head as he bent down to speak into her ear.

He stayed where he was even as she turned to face him, putting their lips dangerously close to one another. “Most definitely. How about now?”

Sam resisted the urge to lean the rest of the way into her; he just grinned and pulled away from her, putting his arm over her shoulders. He led her back through the house and out to the street where everyone was parked, his heart racing. He was putting on a strong performance, but the truth was that he didn’t really know what he was doing; he was just matching Jess’s confidence with false bravado. 

It turned out that Jess was a bit of a motorhead. She really liked his car. They hadn’t made it a mile down the road before her hand was rubbing him through his jeans and her teeth were latched onto his ear. Sam was having to use all of his focus to not crash on the way back to his place. He had barely put the car in park when she hauled herself into his lap, accidentally honking the horn, which caused them both to laugh. 

They managed to make it back to his bedroom without further incident, where Sam spent the better part of two hours exploring and finding all of the most sensitive places on her body, just the way his brother had taught him. He took pride in the way he was able to render her speechless and gasping for breath. She was a beautiful girl, headstrong and funny and smart, which were all good qualities. She reminded him of his brother, once he thought about it. Sam could see himself spending more time with her, but he still didn’t feel like he could be with her. They were compatible enough, but he just didn’t feel that spark. 

The following week was Thanksgiving, so he didn’t see much of her before she left to go back home. Dean had bought plane tickets to fly back to Bobby’s for the holiday, despite his absolute fear of flying. It was quicker than driving for two days. Sam thought that he must have been working extra hours at the mechanic shop in order to afford the plane tickets in addition to both of their rent. Maybe he had gotten a raise? Before the flight, Sam noticed that Dean was wearing new jeans and a strangely nice button-up shirt over his old Rolling Stones tee. 

Sam smiled to himself as he heard Dean humming Metallica and fiddling with his bracelet to keep calm during take-off. He reached over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze, but Dean put a death grip on him and didn’t let him go until they had reached cruising altitude. Sam didn’t mind, he liked being able to do something to help his big brother. Dean had always been there for him growing up. He had been the one to put him to bed, and feed him dinner. Dean had been the one to make sure he got to and from school and made sure he did his homework. Dean had been the one to stand up to their dad for him until he could do it himself. Dean had literally saved him, had been the only consistent thing in his entire life, and Sam wanted more than anything to pay him back for everything; he was going to make his brother proud. 

Once they got to Sioux Falls, Dean rented a car and they made the short drive out to Bobby’s. It was just like it had been before Sam went to Stanford. Dean was singing along, offkey, to the oldies station on the radio; Sam was making fun of his taste in music and complaining when he turned it up really loud when Led Zeppelin came on. It was too cold to put the windows down, but nothing could have made it more perfect. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed spending time with his brother. Not that dinner during the week and lunch on Sundays weren’t spending time with him, but it was different when it was just the two of them, alone, on the road together. Those were the happiest moments of his life.

Not that everything in the last two years had been perfect. When Sam had told his dad that he wanted to stay and finish high school in Poughkeepsie and that he would be leaving for college and not traveling around with him anymore, John had been furious. It was the worst fight they’d ever had. Punches were thrown and accusations made. Dean even stepped in, like he always tried to, and had gotten seven stitches for his effort. John had kicked them both out that night. Luckily, Dean had had enough of their dad’s bullshit and abuse and had saved up enough money from his job at a local auto repair shop to be able to get an efficiency apartment across town. Dean had made it possible for Sam to be able to finish out high school at the same school. It was the first time in his life he had been at the same school for longer than one semester. 

They had packed what little they had that was their own into their duffles, Dean grabbed the keys to their dad’s ‘67 Impala, and they left. Sam could still remember the nights when they would have dry cereal for dinner, and Dean would have to wear Sam’s hand-me-downs because he had grown out of being able to wear Dean’s. It was a rough time, but Dean made it possible. Sam had argued that Dean shouldn’t be the only one to work, and had gotten a weekend job working at a local grocery store. It should have been the hardest time of his life, but looking back, it was the happiest he had ever been. Dean never made him feel like he was a freak for wanting to study and go to school and stay in one place long enough to learn people’s names. He never made Sam feel like he wasn’t good enough, like he wouldn’t amount to anything. 

Sam shook his head from the memories, and Dean turned down the radio when they turned down the dirt road that led to Bobby’s salvage yard. Palo Alto was great, and the weather in California was much more agreeable than South Dakota, especially in November, but there was something special about being back in a place that held some great memories for them. Sam needed this, it was the perfect break from school and studying. 

“Hey there, boys!” Bobby greeted from his porch. “Grab your bags, come on in before the frostbite settles in.” 

Once they made it inside, they dropped their bags, shucked off their boots, and made their way straight to the fire. Bobby handed each of them a hot drink with a cinnamon stick floating in it and took a seat in his recliner. 

“So, how was the drive up? I thought you still had classes yesterday. You didn’t skip just to get an extra day with me did ya?” Bobby sounded equal parts disappointed and greatful. 

“We flew in this afternoon, after classes, actually,” Sam stated before he choked on the first sip of his drink; it was basically brandy with a dash of apple cider. 

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he moved his focus from Sam to Dean. “_You_ flew? You hate flyin’. How’d you afford plane tickets?”

Dean took a gulp of his drink and pursed his lips appreciatively. “Yes, I flew. Yes, I still hate flying, and I saved up the money… so we could spend more time with you.” Dean mumbled the last part into his mug, he was never one for openly expressing his feelings, he was more show rather than tell. 

“Trust me,” Sam added, “I’m not skipping any classes.”

“Good, you’re too smart to do anything that dumb. I’m so proud of you. And I know that your-”

“Don’t,” Dean stopped him before he could bring up their dad. “Just, leave it at that. It’s nobody else’s business what Sammy’s doing with his life.”

“Okay, okay. No need to get all defensive.” Bobby took a drink and changed the subject. “So, tell me how you boys like it out in California.”

Dean and Sam spent the rest of the night telling Bobby all about their lives in California. They ate dinner and Sam told him how great the campus was and how the library was the biggest he’d ever seen and that he was hoping to get into the pre-law program. Dean told him how great the weather was and how he’d been thinking about buying shorts. Bobby and Sam both gawked at him until he told them that he was joking. After a few more mugs of grog, they were all warm and pleasantly buzzed, and after their long day of travel, Sam and Dean were both ready for bed.

“Sorry, I’ve still only got the one room for you boys, but there are two beds in there, now, so you don’t have to share everything.” Bobby looked at them apologetically, but they both waved it off.

“We’ve been through worse, Bobby. Don’t worry about us,” Dean reassured him, grabbing both duffel bags and making his way toward the stairs. 

Sam walked over to the older man, resting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “Thanks for having us, Bobby. I appreciate it. We both do.” Sam smiled down at him. 

“You boys are always welcome here, no matter what. Anything you boys ever need, I’m here for ya, you got that? You just pick up the phone and call me.” 

“Will do, Uncle Bobby. Night.”

“Night. If you boys need more blankets you know where they are.”

Sam had to hold back his groan when he walked into their room. Bobby had been right, there were two beds in the room now. Two twin beds instead of the double bed that had been there for years. Sam had been spoiled sleeping in the queen bed Dean had bought him when he moved into his new place to start school. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to sleep diagonally on such a small bed. Once he shut the door, he let out a dramatic sigh and Dean chuckled at him. 

“I’m right there with you, Sammy. I’ve spoiled myself with my queen pillowtop mattress. But it’s only for a few days, and at least we don’t have to both squeeze in that double that used to be in here.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just… I was like, a foot shorter the last time we stayed here. I never thought it was such a small room.”

“That’s because we were raised in motel rooms. Growing up, this place was like a mansion to us.”

“True. So, um, which one do you want?” Sam motioned to the beds, one was on the far wall, by the window, and the other was on the same wall as the door to the room. 

Dean looked at both beds weighing his options. “I’ll take the one by the window.”

“Dean, you’ll freeze. I can take the window, I run hotter than you, I’ll be fine.”

“No way! I can’t have you getting sick and missing classes. I’m taking the bed by the window and that’s that.” Just then Dean’s phone buzzed in his pocket, probably for the fifth time since they’d eaten. “I’ve got to take this,” Dean said as he stepped into the hallway.

Sam heard his muffled voice, it sounded like he was arguing with someone. Doing his best to ignore the obviously heated conversation, Sam unpacked his bag, tucking his clothes into the top drawer of the dresser and laying out his toiletries on the top. He was in the process of changing when Dean came back in. He sat on the bed to get his feet out of his jeans, then folded them and put them in his duffel beside the bed. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked, unable to control his curiosity. 

“Oh, that was just Benny calling for work stuff. No big deal.” Dean shrugged out of his overshirt and undid his pants. 

“Benny? I thought your boss’s name was Chuck?” 

“Oh, yeah. I mean, Chuck runs the place, but Benny’s like a manager.”

“So, your manager called to fuss at you while you’re on vacation?” Sam hated that Dean put up with so much crap just to be able to support the two of them. He vowed that he was going to be a successful lawyer and pay Dean back for everything that he’d done for him. He was going to show him how grateful he was and take care of him for a change. 

“Yeah, well, not everyone can appreciate the concept of time off, I guess.” Dean sounded so much more stressed than he had been after dinner. 

“I’m sorry. You know, freshman classes aren’t that hard. When we get back home maybe I could look for-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re gonna look for a job. No way. Your job is to study your nerdy ass off and get all the awards and be a stuffy-ass lawyer-man. My job is to bust ass and get you there. No arguing.” 

It was the same thing every time Sam tried to help Dean out. Ever since they made the move to California, Dean wouldn’t tolerate the idea of Sam getting a job. He said that none of his classmates would have to work and that he didn’t want Sam to stick out. He wanted Sam to have normal for once, and he was hellbent on making it happen, regardless of what Sam had to say about it. 

Dean shoved his jeans down his legs, leaving his socks on, and slid into his sweatpants. Sam couldn’t help but admire the firmness of his brother’s thighs when he bent over, the dimples at the bottom of his back causing him to tilt his head to the side. He rolled over to his back and stared at the ceiling to keep from staring at his brother’s ass in sweatpants as he added another blanket to his bed. That’s one thing that he didn’t miss about being alone with his brother: the guilt that came with knowing that he wanted something he could never have. He loved his brother, and Dean meant more than the world to him; but he couldn’t help the way his mind would wander late at night, especially when they were in that studio apartment with just the one bed. 

Sam cleared his throat and turned to the wall. “You ready?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Sam reached up and flipped the switch to turn the lights out. “Night, jerk.”

“Night, bitch.”

Sam grinned into his pillow and tried to ignore the fact that his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed, even with his knees tucked up to his chest. Dean was snoring in no time, and the familiar noise calmed Sam’s mind, allowing him to fall asleep shortly after. He dreamed of California summers with his goofy brother, bowed legs in shorts and giant sunglasses covering half his face, with a smile so big the sun didn’t stand a chance of outshining him. 

  
[ ](https://imgur.com/kkDcOJ3)

Dean woke up to numb toes, a runny nose, and a raging hard-on. He rolled onto his back, folded the end of the blanket around his toes, which caused his knees to stay bent in the air, and then wiped his nose on the sleeve of a sweatshirt that was hanging on the headboard. Sam was right, it had been very cold. Dean had been disappointed that Bobby had downsized the room to two twin beds, sleeping next to his space-heater of a little brother, Dean wouldn’t have needed the extra blankets. Also, so much of their childhood was spent sharing that double bed, he was mildly upset that there was no longer that nostalgic connection.

Most of their childhood hadn’t been nostalgia-worthy, but spending time at Bobby’s had always been special for them. Dean had always done what he could to make growing up on the road better for Sammy; inventing new ways of making the same old food, making up fun games to play in the car on long road trips, stealing him books to read when the games didn’t hold any interest for him anymore. Dean’s number one priority had always been Sam, and when they branched out on their own, Dean did what he had to do in order to make sure his baby brother wanted for nothing. 

When they had first left John, things had been rough; Dean wasn’t sure he could take care of Sammy the way he deserved. A coworker at the garage he had been working at hooked him up with his cousin, Vinny, who dabbled in ‘alternative services’. The first time Dean had worked for him had been very awkward. He didn’t know how to handle himself getting paid for having sex; it also happened to be the night that he realized he was bisexual. That one night had paid their rent for almost two weeks and gave him enough money to buy Sammy some decent food. A few months later Dean was worried about money again, and there was a ski trip at school that Sam hadn’t even asked him about, so Dean went back to Vinny. Through a client, he learned of the higher end market of escorting. He was a natural, and he soon made a name for himself as being charismatic, entertaining, and absolutely satisfying in bed. 

His agency in Poughkeepsie had gotten him in touch with an agency in Palo Alto, when the time came for them to move to California, and Dean’s reputation preceded him. He hadn’t had a free weekend since they made the move, and Dean had more money than he had ever dreamed of. Through a fluke joke, Dean discovered that he was a good stripper, and that added even more gigs to his busy schedule. Between working days in a local repair shop, escorting men and women to weddings and other parties, and the occasional strip-dance, Dean had to schedule time to spend with Sam once school started. They had dinner one night a week and always had brunch on Sunday mornings. 

Dean was making more than enough money for all of his bills, so he told Sam that he didn’t have to stay on campus, that he could get a room with some of the guys he had met in some Stanford chat room. He also got Sam his own car, and was able to give him some extra spending money, too; nothing too much to raise his suspicions, but enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to fit in with all the preps he would be at school with. It wasn’t what he had planned on doing with his life, but he loved the work, being able to make people happy; he loved being able to make Sam happy even more. As long as Sammy was taken care of, Dean would do whatever it took. 

Sam mumbled something in his sleep and buried his face further into his pillow, his long legs draped over the side and end of the small bed. Dean figured he had about thirty minutes before Sam woke up, so he let his fingers drift down his abdomen, under his sweats and boxers, and he teased down and around his cock, which was laying heavy on his stomach. Using his middle finger and thumb he caressed the loose skin of his sac, tugging gently and massaging his sensitive, swollen balls. He bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning out loud when his pinky finger trailed down and nudged at his puckered hole. The burn of the dry intrusion was just the level of pain he needed so that when he wrapped his left hand around the head of his cock he came after only a few strokes.

The orgasm control training he had been doing for work was paying off, coupled with being back in the same room as his brother, after that flight, with Sam grabbing his thigh the way he had. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of Sam’s massive fingers denting into the soft flesh above his knee. It had taken all of his self-control to not jerk himself off in the tiny airplane bathroom. Dean would take his perverse thoughts about his brother to the grave; he would never hurt his baby brother like that. He had no guilt over the offhand comments nor the occasional, “accidentally” interrupted jerk-off sessions they had shared over the last couple of years.

Dean smirked as he sat up, rubbing his shirt over the spunk on his stomach, remembering Sammy’s blush and stammering when he would walk into their studio apartment to catch Dean rubbing one off. Of course, Dean knew exactly what time Sammy would be home, and timed it almost perfectly each day so that he would come just as Sammy walked into the room. He let his eyes roam from Sam’s exposed feet, all the way up his long, lean body to his mess of hair. He was getting some definition in his muscles, now. Dean figured it had to be from walking around campus, carrying all his books, _the nerd_. 

He grabbed the blanket Sam had kicked off of himself during the night, covered his feet and legs with it, then headed down to the kitchen to make some coffee. Bobby had beat him to it, nodding from behind his mug as Dean responded in kind and walked over to the coffee machine. He poured himself a mug and sat silently across the table from his stand-in uncle/father figure. Bobby had been the only constant in his life, aside from Sammy, and the fact that he could always count on his dad being a Grade-A, giant bag of dicks. 

Bobby looked over his shoulder toward the stairs. “Sam’s doing good in school?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, the little dork hasn’t skipped class once all semester.” Dean laughed.

“He’s a good boy,” Bobby agreed and leveled a glare at Dean. “Speaking of, how’re things at Chuck’s?”

Dean finished swallowing, then answered, “Good. He’s got a busy shop, so I’m always elbows deep in something.” 

“Uh-huh,” Bobby said, his insinuation clear. “And you’re taking care of yourself?”

Dean pursed his lips, glanced at the stairs, set his mug on the table, laced his fingers together and returned Bobby’s look. “If there’s something you wanna ask Bobby, now’s the time to do it.” 

“Where’d you get the tickets, Dean?”

“I told you, I saved up for ‘em.” Dean’s signature smirk gave away his lie; he knew Bobby was going to get to the truth eventually, but Dean was still going to make him work for it. Besides that, he could not let Sam know that he was selling himself, for lack of a better description, for extra money. 

“Don’t play me for a fool, boy. Where’d you get the money?” Bobby’s voice got hard instead of loud. 

Dean flinched, despite knowing that Bobby would never strike him. Call it a reflexive instinct, or muscle memory. “I got a second job.” 

Bobby’s look softened. “Same kind of ‘second job’ you had back in Poughkeepsie? Does Sam know?”

Dean squinted his eyes a little, a tell he was trying to get rid of. “How did you-”

“I look stupid to you, Dean?” The older man chastised. “I know how much it costs to pay rent in a place, and buy food and clothes for two teenage boys.” Dean felt his cheeks flush and studied the contents of the mug at his fingers. Bobby lowered his voice and continued, “I’m not judging you, Dean. You did what you had to do to take care of your brother. I just hope you’re being careful and taking care of yourself, not doing anything stupid.”

A creak coming from the stairs caused them both to look up and see Sam lumbering down the stairs. “Sam doesn’t need to know and I’m not stupid, Bobby. I can take care of myself,” Dean mumbled before Sam made it into the kitchen. 

“Mornin’.” Sam still wasn’t fully awake, his voice thick in his throat.

“Mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty,” Bobby teased. 

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and poured himself the last of the coffee. “You need help cookin’, Bobby?” He sat at the table beside Dean.

Dean made himself scoot over some so that their legs weren’t pressed right against each other. Bobby being cool about Dean’s alternative methods of making ends meet didn’t mean that he would be okay knowing how Dean really felt about his baby brother. Bobby could see through bullshit quicker than anyone Dean had ever met. The last thing he wanted to do was make the old man even more suspicious of him. 

“Sure, if you boys wanna peel the potatoes and clean the beans, I can get the turkey ready.”

“Is there pie?” Dean asked, perking up at the topic of Thanksgiving dinner. 

“Actually, I thought we’d try something different this year.” Bobby and Sam both laughed when Dean’s face fell. “Hell, boy, of course, there’s pie. Made it yesterday and hid it from you so that we’d actually have some for after dinner.”

Sam laughed when Dean started to look around the kitchen like the pie had been hidden in plain sight. Dean loved to make Sam laugh; he loved the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was so radiant that Dean swore he’d go blind from it one day. Dean clapped his hands together. “Alright, where’s the potatoes? The sooner we eat, the sooner I get that pie.” He grinned over at Sam, who shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. 

A couple of hours later, they had a three-pound bag of potatoes peeled, cleaned and chopped, and they had rinsed off about two pounds of fresh green beans that were now waiting to be turned into a casserole. Bobby had thanked them for helping, then kicked them out of the kitchen until the food was ready. Dean snagged a couple of beers out of the fridge and a bag of chips, shooting Bobby a mischievous grin on his way out of the kitchen. 

“Come on, loser,” he called out to Sam on his way to the front door. 

Sam turned away from Bobby’s bookshelf, following behind Dean. “Where’re we going?”

“Grab our coats!” Dean opened the door and ran down the stairs and into the garage, trusting that Sam was right behind him.

Dean headed straight to the kerosene heater, igniting it and sliding it over to the threadbare sofa behind the tool cabinet. Dean sat the beers down in front of the couch, away from the heater, and shivered. Sam draped Dean’s coat over his shoulders, and he shrugged his arms into the sleeves, thanking him. He flopped down and grabbed the beers off the floor, swinging one out to Sam as he followed suit. 

“It’s freezing out here, Dean. What’re you doing?” Dean’s pride swelled as Sam used a lighter to pop the top off his beer, just like Dean had taught him. 

“Just thought we’d get out of the house for a while, stay out of Bobby’s hair.” Dean grabbed the lighter from Sam, opened his own beer and took a swig. “Remember when we were kids and dad would drop us off here for a couple of weeks. We’d pretend we were in Mad Max’s apocalypse world?”

“Yeah, until you actually tried to go all ‘interceptor’ and race out in the field! Bobby handed you your ass over that!” Sam’s laugh was music to Dean’s ears, but he remembered not being able to walk right for about a day after that. 

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, then added, “I didn’t even make it up to fifty, either.” 

“I remember thinking that was so cool.” Sam took in a deep breath. “You were the coolest big brother.” Dean’s chest ached with gratification, then Sam continued, “Look, Dean, I know what all you do to take care of m-”

“Don’t, Sammy. That’s my job. Okay, it’s not a big deal.” Dean drained half his beer, willing Sam not to carry on. Of course, Dean was never that lucky.

“It’s not your job. It was dad’s job. And he failed, so you took up his slack. But, Dean, I’m in college; I’m an adult. I should be paying my own way, now. You don’t have to take care of me, anymore.”

Dean felt like shit for making Sam feel guilty about his own life choices. All he ever wanted was to give his kid brother the normal life he’d always craved. Every chance he got, he tried to make sure Sammy got what he wanted, even if it meant facing down their dad afterward. Dean had taken more than his share of beatings for it by the time he dropped out of school. He never saw the point in going when they were never there long enough to pass or fail any classes. Due to always being on the road, Dean learned early on how to do pretty much everything imaginable to an engine, in addition to regular vehicle maintenance. So he’d always been able to get odd jobs here and there at mechanic shops. At least it was honest work, unlike whatever it was their dad was into. 

“It _is_ my job to look out for you, Sammy. That was my only job growing up. ‘Watch out for Sammy.’ He didn’t have to, but that’s what he’d always tell me before walking out the door for days, or even weeks at a time. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Live your own life, Dean. Do what _you_ want to do; don’t worry about me. Get married, have a family.” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Or go back to school, get a good job somewhere.”

“Nothing wrong with working on cars, Sammy.”

“Dean, I didn’t say there was. I just-”

“I know, you just want me to be happy. But I am, Sammy. I like my work, and I don’t really mind California. And I pay your rent and all so that you don’t have to get a job. You focus on school, you get a good job, get married, and have a family. You got what it takes to make it, man; I’m just helping you get there.”

Sam’s face was grim, his lips in a thin line and his brow furrowed. Dean could tell that he was trying to figure out what to say to get Dean to change his mind, but there really wasn’t anything that he could have said. Nothing at all would get Dean to quit supporting his baby brother. To him, there was nothing else in the world for him to do. 

“Alright, Dean. Okay. But I’m going to pay you back, for rent, for food, for the car. All of it.” Sam turned to face Dean and didn’t say anything else until Dean turned to look him in the eye. “I’m grateful, De. For all of it. I want you to know that.” His voice was just above a whisper by the time he finished speaking.

Dean felt a lump in his throat, Sammy’s puppy dog look wasn’t helping him shake it off. Dean had to clear his throat before he could respond. “Yeah, yeah. No chick flick moments.” He took another chug from his bottle.

It was Sam’s turn to scoff. “Please, you love chick flicks.” Dean mocked offense. “Dean, I watched you bawl like a baby watching Beaches.”

“They were lifelong friends, and she died after all that shit they went through,” Dean mumbled. “You’d have to be a heartless demon to not cry.” 

The smirk that Sam shot him dimpled his left cheek. “Yeah, alright… crybaby.”

Dean reached over and punched him playfully on the shoulder. Sam responded with his own shoulder punch, and before they knew it, they were sprawled out on the floor. Sam had pinned Dean, face down into the dirt, arms crossed and held behind his back. Sam’s arm was firm across his back and his hips were pressed into Dean’s ass. Dean flashed back to when they were kids and their dad insisted they learned to fight. Dean had gotten his first boner wrestling with his baby brother when he’d let him win, pinning him almost just like this. 

“Alright, uncle!” Dean wiggled his shoulders to break Sam’s hold on him. He angled away from him to straighten himself up, making sure his erection wasn’t visible, before turning back to face him. “Lugging those books around has really been good for ya, nerd.”

“Yeah, you’d think bench pressing transmissions would give you the upper hand, huh?” Sam teased, sitting in front of the sofa, reaching for the chips.

“Well, if you didn’t have arms and legs like Gumby, things would have turned out differently.” Dean walked over and snatched the chip bag out of Sam’s hand just after he got them open, running out of the shop toward the trees behind Bobby’s house. 

He heard Sam’s footsteps behind him and picked up his pace, hardly having to check where he was going. Either one of them would have been able to get to where they were heading blindfolded. He jumped over a felled tree and burst into the clearing, turning just in time for Sam to tackle him to the frozen ground. 

“Damn, Sammy. You not gettin’ enough action at school?” Dean joked, unable to help the insinuation. 

A look that Dean couldn’t recognize flashed across Sam’s face before he pushed himself up, snatching the chips back from Dean. The leather of Dean’s jacket was getting cold from being on the icy ground, and Dean groaned a little as he pulled himself up. He followed Sam over to the dock of their childhood swimming hole, and Sam held out the bag of chips as a truce offering. Dean grabbed a handful, putting half of them in his mouth while Sam just shook his head. 

“This place is gorgeous in the winter. We’ve never seen it like this. We didn’t come out here last time we were here.”

Sam was right. The last time they were there was at Christmas; they had spent all of their time inside drinking spiked eggnog. Whenever they had been dropped off there, it had been during the spring or summer. The stars would shine bright and the lightning bugs would bounce around over the still water. This was just as serene. 

All the leaves were gone from the trees, a crisp dusting of snow and frost covered the ground, the very edges of the pool of water were crystallized, the blades of grass were covered in frost, frozen in place until spring would come and release it. It was quiet, too. Almost eerily quiet. 

“I bet you fifty bucks you won’t jump in.” Dean smirked over at his brother.

“Dean, it’s freezing. Neither of us is gonna jump in.” Sam laughed, shaking his head.

“A hundred says I make it in before you.” Dean shed his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Dean!”

“Come on, Sammy, it’s mid-day, it can’t be lower than forty, that’s hardly freezing.” Dean was kicking off his boots, preparing to undo his pants.

Sam shook his head and looked out over the water again, then back at Dean. As quick as he’d ever seen him, Sam started to take off his clothes, kicking off his shoes as he took off his jacket. Dean had just gotten down to his boxers when Sam started to take off his pants, already walking to the end of the dock. Dean shoved past him, but they both jumped in at the same time. The frigid water literally took Dean’s breath away, not something he had been expecting. When he breached the surface he struggled to pull air into his lungs, the cold air not making it any easier for him to breathe. 

“Woo!” Sam seemed to be exhilarated by the icy dive, but Dean’s vision was starting to blur. “Dean!” He felt strong arms tug at him and then he got even colder. Suddenly, he was on a hard surface, the harshness digging into his skin. “Dean! Come on!” Dean’s eyes were finding it hard to focus, then he was being constricted and was no longer on the ground.

Dean wasn’t able to keep his eyes open any longer, but at least he could take in a breath, and he wasn’t as cold as he had been. He was being shaken, and he groaned but was squeezed tighter. 

“Quit squirming or I’m going to drop you, dumbass.” Sam sounded pissed. “Bobby!” Sam screamed, he sounded scared. 

“What have you idjits gotten into, now? Set him by the fire, I’ll grab a blanket.”

Dean felt something solid under him again, but he still felt what must have been Sam’s arms holding him. He could feel warmth, but was still shivering and wet. He opened his eyes to see a bleary view of Bobby’s living room, they were on the floor in front of the fire; he was half in Sam’s lap, still wrapped in his arms. Bobby came in with a couple of towels and a thick blanket, tossing them to Sam, who used the towels to dry Dean off before wrapping him up, head to toe, in the comforter. After he was certain Dean was fully swaddled, Sam wrapped him back into his arms and refused to let him go, even when Bobby told him that he needed to get dried off, as well. 

“S- S- S- Samm- mmy.” Dean tried to tell him to not be stupid, to take care of himself, but he couldn’t get the words out. 

“I’m right here, Dean.”

“N- no. D- d- dry y- you,” Dean tried again. 

“I’m fine. I’m basically dry already from carrying you.” Sam’s voice sounded wrecked, why had Dean been so stupid?

“Sammy, Dean’s gonna be alright, but he’ll kill me if I let you get sick. Go on and get dried off and get some clothes on.” 

Sam lay Dean down close to the fire and practically ran upstairs. Bobby leaned down by Dean’s head. “You’re not stupid, huh? Idjit, here.” He held a bottle of Jack to Dean’s lips, and Dean took a sip, savoring the burn as it ran down his throat. He took another swig, then Bobby stood and headed back into the kitchen. 

Before Dean knew it, Sam was back and pulling Dean up into his lap. He rubbed his hands up and down Dean’s arms; slowly, Dean started to regain feeling in his limbs. It didn’t take much longer before Dean started to sweat; the combination of the fire, his baby brother’s body heat, and the comforter becoming too much for him. And now that he could feel again, there was a stinging pain on the back of his thigh, just under his ass. 

“Alright, I’m good,” he said, begrudgingly pulling himself out of Sam’s embrace. 

Sam helped Dean to stand and get un-burritoed but stayed downstairs when Dean waved him away before going to their room to put clothes on. How could he have been so careless? Nostalgia had gotten the better of him, and he thought that maybe they could make some new memories at their favorite swimming hole. Bobby was right, he was an idjit. 

Dean was careful removing his boxer briefs that were still damp enough to have to peel off his skin. He stood on his toes in front of the mirror above the dresser to get a look at what was causing his pain. He had a very deep cut from something, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore, so he grabbed his thickest sweater, socks, underwear, and his other pair of sweatpants to put on, then went back downstairs where Sam was setting up the table, getting ready for their Thanksgiving feast. 

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean said quietly.

“Don’t be, I should have known better than to think that you could survive a polar plunge.” Sam tried to laugh it off, but Dean could hear the fear in his voice. If Sam hadn’t been able to carry Dean back to the house and get his body temperature back up in time, Dean very well could have died. 

“No, man. I’m supposed to be the wise older brother, I shouldn’t have even suggested it.”

“Agree to disagree, Dean. Hand me some glasses?” Sam gestured over to the counter where he had all the dishware set out, waiting to be put in its proper place.

Dean grabbed the three glasses with his fingers, then the flatware with his other hand, and held them out for Sam to take. “Anyway, thanks for saving my life, little brother.”

“What kind of brother would I be if I let my idiot big brother freeze to death?” Sam gave Dean a look, then added, “No chick flick moments,” throwing Dean’s very own words back at him. 

“Alright. What else do we need?” Dean rubbed his hands together, looking over everything that Sam had set out on the table. 

“How about some food,” Bobby offered from the kitchen. “Come help me carry all this, would ya?”

Both boys turned, followed Bobby into the other room, and each picked up a dish. Sam carried in Bobby’s famous mashed potatoes, while Dean carried the green bean casserole, and Bobby plated the mouthwatering turkey. The boys set their dishes down in the center of the table and Dean sat, while Sam went back to the kitchen for the bottle of wine Bobby had gotten to mark the holiday. Bobby walked in with the bird, a carving fork and knife stabbed through the top of it, followed by Sam holding the bottle and a corkscrew. 

Sam worked on opening the wine, while Bobby carved chunks off the turkey. Dean just watched the two of them work, not really having anything else to do. Once Bobby had a few pieces cut, Dean gathered each of their plates, holding them out for Bobby to fill. Sam grunted, and Dean turned just in time to admire his baby brother’s muscular arms strain against the bottle before the cork was finally loosened from the bottle’s neck; Sam smiled triumphantly and Dean held out Bobby and his glasses for Sam to fill. 

Once everyone had a little bit of everything on their plate, and a glass full of wine to go with it, they all said something they were thankful for. Dean was thankful to be able to (afford to) spend time with family, Sam was thankful to be able to go to his top pick of colleges, and Bobby was thankful for having the boys there to celebrate the holiday with him. They all took a moment to admire the feast laid out in front of them before diving in.

Dean was ravenous after his icy excursion, and Sam seemed just as enthusiastic to eat. Bobby sat back and watched them devour most of what was on their plates before he joined in. Dean figured he was probably thinking that he had taught them better than to eat like cavemen, but he was too hungry to care.

Bobby got seconds while Sam and Dean had thirds of everything, leaving only some of the turkey for leftovers. The bottle of wine was long gone when Bobby finally got up and brought his plate back to the kitchen. Dean perked up when he came back in, seeing the pie and clean plates he’d brought with him. Dean sucked the juices off of his fork then grabbed the plates so that Bobby could cut into the pie. With no ado, Bobby cut Dean his own quarter of the pie, then an eighth for himself and Sammy. Before sitting back down, the man went back into the kitchen, returning with three small glasses and the bottle of Jack that Dean had drunk out of earlier. 

“It wouldn’t be the holiday if something crazy hadn’t happened, and nobody got drunk, so here’s to you boys. Thanks for comin’ to keep an old man company for the holiday.”

“Here, here,” Sam said at the same time Dean responded with a simple, “Thanks for having us.” They all raised their glasses before throwing back their shots. 

Bobby refilled their glasses with a little more this time, then picked up his fork and dug into his pie. Dean filled his fork with as much pie as it could hold and shoveled the whole bite into his mouth at once, barely able to keep his mouth closed as he chewed. 

Sam laughed. “Dude, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Shu uh,” Dean replied, mouth still full of the flaky, sweet, fruity goodness.

Once he licked his plate clean of the pie filling, Dean started to clear the table, picking up everything that wasn’t being used and bringing it to the kitchen. “Just set everything on the counter, I’ll pack everything up before I go to bed. You boys take your drinks and go relax.”

Sam was still working on his second piece of pie, so Dean grabbed his tumbler and went back to the fireplace, stretching his legs out toward the fire, letting it warm his feet while the Jack burned his throat. Dean couldn’t help but think of the last time he had been in front of a fire like this. A socialite from San Jose had him as a date to a fancy destination wedding in San Francisco. Dean had been booked for the whole weekend, there were day outings and parties every night, then the wedding was Sunday afternoon. There was a gas fireplace, not a wood-burning one like Bobby’s, in the hotel room they’d shared. 

She’d had the same fantasy that all women must have of eating strawberries and drinking champagne on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire. Nevermind that the combination of alcohol and arousal-driven body heat in combination with a fur rug and a fire made it uncomfortably hot, it was so messy afterward to clean up. Let's just say, Dean’s pretty sure that lady had to leave housekeeping a generous tip given the sticky mess they’d left on that rug. Not to mention the strawberry juice and spilled champagne. It wasn’t a terrible weekend, considering, and Dean did walk away with two grand, allowing him to buy an old Caprice off his boss for Sammy, so it was totally worth it.

“Mind if I join you?” Sam’s voice was quiet, respecting the serenity of the moment. 

“Sure, cop a squat.” Dean patted the floor next to him. 

Sam sat a little bit further away, but Dean was relieved when Sam leaned over and laid his head on his lap. They hadn’t laid like this since before Sammy was in high school. It was comfortable, though. Familiar. Dean drew his legs up to sit cross-legged, freeing his hands up to run through Sam’s hair. That was another thing they hadn’t done in a long time, since before they moved to Palo Alto. It was just as soothing for Dean as it was for Sam. Dean could feel his little brother’s breaths even out as his body relaxed. 

“You scared me today, De.” Sam spoke so quietly, Dean wasn’t sure he had heard him. Sam sniffled, then added, “I can’t lose you.”

“Hey.” Dean leaned over to make eye contact with him. “Hey,” Dean said more forcefully when Sam buried his head further into Dean’s thigh. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” He tried to joke, but Sam just wrapped a hand around Dean’s leg and clung even harder to him, trying not to cry harder. “Shh, Sammy. It’s alright.” Dean continued to thread through Sam’s ever-growing hair until his breaths evened out again. “You good?” Sam only sniffled. “Come on, let’s get to bed.” 

Dean grabbed both his and Sam’s drinks and carried them to the room, Sam right on his heels. Dean sat the drinks on the dresser and turned around to see Sam moving their bags in front of the dresser. When Dean raised an eyebrow at him, Sam just motioned for Dean to grab the foot of the bed he had slept in. Realizing what Sam planned to do, Dean obliged, ignoring the pull in his gut at the thought of them sharing a bed again. They lifted the bed so they wouldn’t alert Bobby of their redecorating choices, and sat it down up against the other bed, essentially creating a king-sized bed. 

Sam stripped down to just his boxers, downed the last of his whiskey, and crawled under the covers. Dean followed suit but crawled over Sam so that he would be on the side closest to the door, which is where he preferred to sleep - unless the alternative is next to a barely functional window, in South Dakota, in the winter. Sam just shook his head and threw the comforter Dean had on his bed over the both of them. They swapped pillows, and after Dean reached up to flip the lights out, Sam curled up behind him, making him the little spoon. Sam was rarely in a cuddly mood, but Dean wasn’t about to argue; he just settled in and let Sam’s warmth run through him. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” Sam whispered against the back of Dean’s neck, causing his hairs to stand up. 

“‘M not going anywhere, Sammy. You’re stuck with me,” Dean whispered back, grabbing his brother’s arm tight. 

“Promise?”

“Promise, baby brother.”

Sam let out a long breath. “Good.”

Sam pushed in closer to Dean, and his thigh pressed against his fresh cut. Dean hissed a breath through his teeth and Sam flinched away from him.

“What is it? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just- I must have gotten cut on something during our dip in the old swimming hole. It’s nothing.” Dean tried to explain it away, but had only succeeded in making Sam worry enough to lean over him, careful not to touch him, and turn the lights back on.

“Let me see.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but knew it wouldn’t do any good to tell him that it was nothing to worry about. He rolled the comforter down to his knees and pulled up the leg of his boxers to show Sam where he had been hurt. “Tell me, doc, am I gonna make it?” Dean laughed, but Sam didn’t.

“Dean, this is deep enough, it could get infected. I’ll go get something to clean it out with.”

“Sammy, I’m sure it’s fine,” Dean protested, but Sam was already at the door by the time he’d finished speaking. 

After Sam cleaned the wound with some peroxide, which stung like a _sonofabitch_, he put some ointment on it, then a wide bandage over it, and they were ready for bed again. Dean had to admit that it didn’t sting as much, though it was still sore. Sam was more careful when he pushed himself flat against Dean’s back, which he was very thankful for. After Sam relaxed and his breathing started to slow, Dean could feel himself start to drift off.

“Night, Sammy.”

“G’night, De.” Sam snuggled in closer to Dean, and Dean felt his entire body relax, being almost as close as they could physically be.

Dean tried not to think about what it would take for them to be fully connected at that moment. Instead, he thought about all the trouble he was going to be in when he got back to Palo Alto. Dean had blown off a standing appointment at the last minute in order to make the trip, but there was no way he was going to miss Sammy’s first actual vacation from school. There were other men who could do the exact same thing that Dean did; it shouldn’t be that big of a deal to replace him for one appointment. Benny would get over it. 

Sam squeezed Dean a little tighter and mumbled, “De,” in his sleep. Dean drifted off, warm and loved in his brother’s embrace; not a worry in the world as long as Sammy felt loved and happy and wanted for nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](https://imgur.com/dCstJ2x)

Sam woke up, Dean still wrapped in his arms, when his brother shifted in his sleep and rubbed right against his morning wood. Sam had to fight not to jerk back and away from him, that would only draw more attention to his situation, and Dean was probably still fast asleep. Sam’s right arm was draped across Dean’s stomach, while his left was under Dean’s head, and was basically numb. He slowly drew his right arm back, careful not to remove it in a way that would disturb Dean. When Sam started to lift his hand, however, he rubbed against the waistband of Dean’s boxers, coming back damp. Was that-?

“Mm, Sammy,” Dean mumbled, had he woken up?

When he didn’t say or do anything else, Sam tried in vain to remove his arm from under Dean’s head. Dean wiggled back closer against Sam, grinding right into his erection. This was Sam’s best-worst nightmare. He wasn’t able to hold back the groan that slipped out, which in turn woke Dean, who rolled over, freeing Sam’s arm, but then brushing Dean’s arm against Sam’s cock. They both jerked away from each other, putting about a foot between them, but neither one moved more than that. 

“Mornin’,” Dean laughed, rubbing a lazy hand over his face. 

“Yeah, mornin’,” Sam replied, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

Dean chuckled a little, peeking at himself under the covers. “Nothing we haven’t been through before, Sammy.”

Sam thought about that, all the mornings he had lain in bed while Dean jacked off, eventually encouraging him to do the same thing. Or those afternoons he would get home a little early from school and Dean would still be taking care of himself in the tiny apartment they shared. “True. It’s just been a while.”

Dean smirked over at Sam, and Sam’s dick twitched, deepening the blush that already covered his face. He watched as Dean palmed himself through the thick blanket. “For old times’ sake?” 

Sam gulped audibly, but his fingers were already inching toward his aching cock. His lips tweaked into what was supposed to be a smirk of his own. “Yeah, alright.”

Dean pushed his head back into his pillow and shut his eyes, hand dipping below the comforter. “Race ya!” 

“You’re on!” Sam’s hand dove under the thin cotton of his boxers and grasped the base of his cock. 

Gripping himself tight he began stroking himself in earnest. Not bothering with teasing his balls or working himself up at all. He thought about Dean doing the same, right next to him, and listened to his brother’s labored breaths. Sam flicked his wrist just the way he liked and took care to rub just under his head, where he was extra sensitive. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, screwing his eyes shut tight.

“Don’t hold back, Sammy.” Sam’s eyes snapped open and he looked directly into Dean’s eyes.

They’d never talked to one another while they did this, and they sure as hell never made eye contact. Hearing Dean’s wrecked voice, and seeing how blown out his eyes were, Sam barely had time to lower the blanket from his body before he was spurting his release all over his bare chest. Dean grunted and came right after him, come shooting all the way up to his neck, not that Sam was watching his brother come. 

Sam was the first to recover, reaching down beside the bed for a shirt or something they could use to clean up with. His fingers wrapped around what turned out to be his shirt from the day before; he wiped himself off, then folded it in half and handed it to Dean who’s fingers brushed against his when he took it. 

Whatever was happening between them had to have something to do with Dean’s near-death experience the day before. Sam still couldn’t bear to think of what could have happened. Remembering Dean’s eyes rolling back into his head, and his entire body turning blue, his lips purple. Sam had never been so scared before in his life, not even when standing toe-to-toe with their dad, knowing that fists were going to fly at any moment. 

“Hey, Sammy?” The gravity in Dean’s voice was more than Sam was ready for at the moment.

“I’m going to hop in the shower.” Sam snatched his bathroom bag out of his duffel and didn’t look back on his way to the bathroom. 

His shower was short since he had already taken care of himself. Sam tried not to think too long about that. It was something they had done as a game when they were younger. Boys do that sort of thing. Why would it be any different because they’re brothers, and they haven’t lived together for almost five months? Why was he thinking about this so much? He just couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind. He never thought that spending this much time with him after all this time apart would have had this effect on him. He never should have pushed their beds together. He just had to be close to him, to know he was still alive. 

There was a knock on the door as Sam dried himself off, and Dean poked his head in. “You about done, I need to hop in, too.”

Sam nodded and Dean came in, actively avoiding looking at Sam’s naked body, only half covered while he toweled off his legs and stepped out of the tub. “All yours.” 

Dean stepped awkwardly around Sam, Sam moving toward the door, and Dean toward the shower. In such a small space they had to work not to bump into each other. Sam wrapped his towel around his waist and reached for the door, just as Dean dropped his boxers and kicked them to the side. Sam thought he saw Dean smirk as Sam flung himself out the door and into the hallway. 

Sam dressed quickly and made his way down to the kitchen. Hopefully, Bobbly was up and had some coffee already brewed. When Sam didn’t smell anything as he reached the last few stairs he figured Bobby was still sleeping, but when he got to the kitchen he saw half of a pot of coffee already in the pot and a note in Bobby’s handwriting. 

He dumped the pot out into the sink, rinsed it out, and refilled it while reading Bobby’s note. Apparently, some idiot had tried to drive the night before and gotten himself stuck in a ditch just outside of town, so Bobby had gotten an early call to tow him out. Sam put a fresh filter in the machine, put a few scoops of ground goodness in next, then poured in the pot of water, reset the pot and hit brew. He was still trying to process what had happened earlier as he sat at the table and put his head in his hands, massaging his temples. _This time was different_. Or had he imagined it?

By the time the coffee was percolating, Dean was making his way downstairs, scrubbing his hands through his short, spiky, wet hair. He was back in his sweatpants but was only wearing a wife-beater with them. Sam noticed how Dean had gotten a little bit tanner and had developed quite a few new freckles since moving to California. Understandably, he hadn’t noticed as he’d carried Dean back to the house, practically naked, in his panic the day before. Seeing him with the morning light filtering in through Bobby’s kitchen curtains made him appreciate Dean’s appearance even more. 

“You keep starin’ I’m gonna have to charge ya, Sammy.” Dean teased, but raised his arms and wiggled his hips, as if to give Sam a better view. 

“Ha, ha,” Sam replied, his wit not quite awake yet. “I was just noticing that you’ve gotten tanner since we moved to Cali.”

“Yeah, it’s all that nonstop sunshine; does a body good, right?”

“That’s milk, Dean.” Dean just knit his brows and tilted his head. “It’s a slogan, ‘Milk. Does a body good.’”

“Oh, right. Milk, sunshine, whatever. It’s ‘all the rage’ as the kids say.” Dean grabbed two mugs from the dish drainer, setting them on the counter to wait for the coffee to brew.

Sam wondered idly when Bobby had washed the dishes, probably while he and Dean were laid out in front of the fire, though he couldn’t recall having heard the water running. Dean rested his ass against the counter by the coffee maker and crossed his legs out in front of him with his arms across his chest. Sam only took a second to appreciate Dean’s lean muscles before averting his gaze to the coffee trickling into the pot, its deep earthy scent permeating the air. 

Dean poured both mugs of coffee and brought them to the table, offering one to Sam. Neither of them spoke as they drank, both of them silently agreeing to a companionable silence. Sam asked himself repeatedly if he should bring up what had happened that morning, but decided against it; if Dean wanted to talk, he would. Sam kept replaying their morning-wood session. Had Sam imagined things being different this morning? There were certain lines they had never crossed. No eye contact, no talking directly to each other. The only rule they hadn’t broken was ‘no touching’, if you didn’t count the groggy accidental dick grazing that had happened... or the spooning. 

When Dean got up to put his mug in the sink Sam finally spoke up. “I’ll get it, just leave it in there.”

“‘Kay, thanks.” After a brief glance back at Sam, Dean left the room and Sam was alone with his thoughts again. 

By the time Sam finished his coffee and washed their mugs, Dean had started watching one of Bobby’s old spaghetti westerns. Sam joined him on the sofa; the best that he could tell, they were about twenty minutes into _High Plains Drifter_. About the time the outlaws came riding in to find the town literally painted red, Bobby came grumbling through the door. 

“Welcome to Hell,” Bobby joked, dryly. 

Dean laughed. “Yeah, this is one of my favorite parts!”

Sam just rolled his eyes, he was pretty sure Dean's favorite part was when The Stranger took the hotel dude's wife and fucked some sense into her, giving her the courage to leave her dumbass, lying husband. That always seemed strange to Sam, that raping a woman could give her purpose; but then again, who was he to know how women worked?

Bobby made leftover turkey sandwiches while The Stranger whipped and hung and shot the outlaws. By the time the town was cleaning itself up, the three of them were quietly eating in front of the TV. 

When Dean was done with his sandwich he stretched his long bowed legs across the couch and draped them over Sam’s lap, wincing slightly, like he had pulled open his gash. He recovered quickly and gave Sam a small smile, letting him know that he was alright. Soon after, Sam caught himself mindlessly rubbing patterns on his brother’s thighs as he watched the rest of the movie and laced his fingers together to keep from doing it more. Sam did think it was strange that Dean hadn’t said anything about it though, maybe he had just been enthralled in the movie. As Clint disappeared into the heat of the desert Dean made a show of stretching out before he swung his legs forward and stood up.

The afternoon found Sam reading an interesting book he had found on Bobby’s shelf about the gun maker Samuel Colt, while Bobby had Dean helping him with an old Camaro that had been giving him a hard time. When it started to get dark Sam took it upon himself to put what little was left of the turkey in the oven to heat up and found a bag of frozen veggies in the freezer to microwave. 

Just when Sam was going to put the veggies in to steam Dean and Bobby came back in mumbling something about rust issues. “Hey, turkey is in the oven and I’m about to steam some veggies.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean called out at the same time Bobby responded with, “Where’s the whiskey?”

Sam just shook his head as he vented the bag and set the cook time on the microwave. When those were done, he pulled the turkey out of the oven. The three of them devoured the leftovers and the vegetables in relative silence. 

With a satisfying level of tryptophan in their systems, they all lounged in Bobby’s study, the fire roaring and whiskey flowing. Bobby told them about things in Sioux Falls, Dean let him pass along a message from their father, although neither one of them offered a reply to it. 

Before too long, Dean started to yawn and the grip on his tumbler loosened. Bobby just laughed as Sam grabbed it from him before it could fall to the floor.

“Come on, De,” Sam quietly asserted, tugging on his brother’s shirtsleeve. “Don’t make me carry you up the stairs.”

Dean wiped a hand down his face and shook his head. “I’m good.”

“You’re sleeping,” Sam countered. “Come on, let’s go to bed. We don’t wanna miss our flight in the morning.”

Dean groaned, whether it was about the flight or picking himself up out of the chair he was in, Sam didn’t know, but laughed regardless. Bobby wished them a good night as Sam herded his brother up the stairs and into their room, shutting the door behind him. 

Sam reached for the bed frame to put them back as they were. “Give me a second I can-”

“Don’t care,” Dean managed before collapsing onto the bed and half-heartedly rolling toward the wall.

Bobby must have really worn him out that afternoon. Dean was usually better at holding his whiskey. Sam thought about helping Dean with his pants but settled for removing his shoes before taking his own clothes off, shutting off the lights, and crawling under the covers. Dean would find his own way into bed when he got cold enough.

Sam realized how much he had missed sharing a bed with his brother. The combination of whiskey, the turkey coma, and having Dean close again had his eyes heavy and breathing even in a matter of minutes. 

****

The trip back was much like the flight out there, Dean humming Metallica while Sam calmed him with his hand on his thigh. The drive back to Palo Alto was made in easy silence, old cassette tapes playing low, the windows down and wind whipping through their hair. Dean dropped Sam off at his house and they said their goodbyes. 

Once he had his bag unpacked, Sam sat at his desk and pulled out his cell phone. He had gotten a text from Jessica over the break, but he hadn’t responded yet. With everything that happened with Dean, and everything that had been going on in his head regarding Dean, Sam just didn’t have it in him to add Jess into the mix. 

Hey. Just got back, sry I didn’t txt sooner.

>Hey! Np we shld hkup!

Sam had to stop and think. He did have a good time with Jess, but he still felt like things had shifted with Dean while they were at Bobby’s. He thought about what that could mean and if he needed to take some time to think about it more. However, if he didn’t want to see Jess again, he wouldn’t have texted her back; so part of him must want to spend more time with her. Before he could make up his mind another text came in.

>dinr @ 8 pk me up @ 7!

Part of Sam was relieved that he didn’t have to make a decision, the other part of him was hesitant that he wouldn’t be able to give her his full attention. She didn’t deserve that. However, she also didn’t deserve a brush off.

c u then

It was almost five, Palo Alto time, but his body felt like it was much later. A two hour time difference didn’t sound like much of a gap, but add in his restless sleep and the events back in Sioux Falls and Sam felt like it was already midnight. Since there was little else to do, Sam decided that he would make the most of his time before having to meet Jess and take a nap. An hour and a half nap would give him plenty of time to wake up and get ready to go pick her up, and maybe not be a zombie during dinner. 

When he woke up, he splashed some water on his face, put on fresh clothes and left to pick up Jess for dinner. She was dressed simply, a navy dress that hugged her breasts and flowed freely to her knees. She certainly knew how to accentuate her assets, Sam appreciated that. She bounced into the passenger seat and leaned right over to press her lips against Sam’s. Being too stunned to do anything else Sam allowed the chaste kiss and smiled at her when she pulled away.

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel he asked, “So, where to?”

“Head toward Charleston.”

“The road right? Not the city in South Carolina.”

“Either one.” She laughed and smiled at Sam as he started to make the drive across town. 

It was dinner time, so traffic wasn’t great, in addition to it being the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Sam must not have been the only one just getting back in town. Jess told him where to turn and finally pointed out the restaurant they were heading into.

Sam balked. It was one of the most expensive places in town. The kind that had white linen table cloths and a different fork for each plate of food they brought out for you. He felt very out of his league.

“Uh, Jess….”

“Don’t worry about it, Sam.” She pulled something out of her bag and held it up between her first two fingers, it was a credit card. “Daddy’s buying!”

Sam felt the heat rise to his face. Sure she had invited him out, but everything he had been taught growing up was that the man paid for dinner dates. He couldn’t tell her no, and it wasn’t really her buying, but it still put Sam off balance.

“I don’t know if I’m dressed well enough to go in here. Are you sure?”

Jess leaned over and put her lips right against Sam’s ear as she spoke, “You look gorgeous. You’re wearing a button-up shirt and slacks, and this isn’t a tie and tails kind of place.” After she finished building him up she took his ear lobe into her mouth and toyed with it between her teeth before scraping them off. 

Even if Sam had wanted to argue the point, all of his focus was effectively elsewhere as he tried to pull his car up to the valet and gather his courage to go into such a fancy place. California really was another planet from the places he and Dean had grown up around. 

Once they were seated Sam felt a little better. Every table had a pseudo-privacy screen around them, like their own little white paper cocoon. Of course, Sam was tall enough that his head peeked over and he could see the tops of people’s heads in other areas easily. One spiky-haired man caught his eye for a brief second, if he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that it was his brother. 

Jess noticed where his attention was caught and sat up straighter to get a view for herself. “Do you know him?” She lifted an eyebrow in a way that suggested that she was intrigued by the other man, or perhaps that she realized that Sam was interested in him; hopefully, it wasn’t the latter. 

Sam shook his head. “I thought that was- no. It can’t be who I thought it was, there’s no way he would be caught dead in a place like this.”

Sam ordered a steak that came with steamed veggies and Jess ordered the chicken-something. Apparently, under her father’s name, she was also able to order them a bottle of wine. While they waited for their food Sam tried to keep a straight face while Jess rubbed her foot along his crotch, making the distance between them almost unbearable.

Lucky for Sam she stopped her teasing once the food was presented. Everything was great, even if the portion size was half of what he would have gotten for half the price somewhere else. The bottle of wine was split between them and gone before they were asked about dessert. They split the cheesecake, which was also amazing. Sam thought that he could get used to eating in places like this; he had a brief daydream with himself in a suit sitting opposite Dean, chatting about their days over steaks. Dean would probably order two and gripe about them hardly being worth the cost while licking his plate clean.

As they stood to leave, Sam’s eye caught the gaze of the spiky-haired man for a brief second before the man’s face dove into the neck of the woman sitting with him. It was definitely Dean. Sam would know his brother’s olive eyes anywhere. Why would he be here? And who was this woman he was with? He had never mentioned seeing anyone, let alone anyone that he would make out with in such a fancy place. 

Sam’s head was in a fog the entire drive back to Jess’s place. He barely registered her hand groping his lap, or her lips on his neck. All he could think about was the look in his brother’s eyes right before he dove into that woman’s neck. Who was she? Why wouldn’t he have said anything about her? 

As soon as he put the Caprice in park, Jess had his pants undone and reached to pull his half-hard cock from his boxers. Sam said nothing but put his hand over hers. Jess clearly wanted Sam to come up to her room, but she stopped whatever she had planned when Sam made it clear that he wasn’t interested. 

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “Do you not want-”

“I’m just jet-lagged. I think I’m just gonna head home and get some sleep.”

She looked a little dejected before she put on a smile and asked, “Tomorrow, then?” 

Sam smiled at her tenacity. “I have plans for lunch, but I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

Her smile widened and she gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. “Tomorrow afternoon it is.” 

Sam watched as she got out of the car and waited until she was inside before he drove off. He decided to drive around town some before heading back home. With the windows down and the wind blowing through his hair, he thought about the trip to Bobby’s, how Dean seemed to be hiding something, like he wanted to talk about it but wouldn’t let himself. Maybe it had something to do with that woman. 

When he got back home he stripped down to his boxers and went straight to bed. As he stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake him, he realized that he and Dean hadn’t confirmed their plans for lunch the next day. They always met for lunch on Sundays, but they didn’t usually spend the week together. Would Dean still want to see him?

Sam grabbed his phone from the nightstand and decided to text his brother in lieu of calling him.

Hey, lunch at Ellen’s tmrw?

>Same bat time same bat channel

ok, c u there. night

>night bitch

[ ](https://imgur.com/kkDcOJ3)

Dean tried not to think about the look on his brother’s face at that fancy restaurant the day before. He never would have gone to that place if he had thought that he would run into him there. Of course, now that Sam was hanging out with rich kids he would go to fancier places. Dean would just have to make sure he was more careful in the future. 

He picked out a pair of simple dark jeans, his most worn out Led Zeppelin tour shirt, his black boots, and his trusty leather jacket. Despite it having been his dad’s, Dean rarely ever went anywhere without it. It had sort of become his security blanket, in addition to the leather bracelet Sam had given him for their first Christmas after leaving their dad. It was something that was his, that kept him grounded no matter where they were or what was going on. 

At a quarter to noon, Dean made his way to meet Sam at Ellen’s. It had become their weekly tradition since Sam started classes; a way for them to catch up and relax before starting a new week. Of course, this week would be different. Dean was seriously considering telling his baby brother about his side job as an escort, but he would probably leave out the occasional stripping gig. No need to go into all that.

Dean arrived first, grabbed their typical corner booth, and ordered their drinks while he waited. His nerves were getting the better of him and he couldn’t keep his leg from bouncing under the table. When the waitress came back with their drinks she gave Dean a sympathetic smile.

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

That shocked Dean out of his reverie. “What?”

“You’re waiting for that tall, handsome boy you always meet here. You don’t have to be nervous. I can tell that he feels the same way about you.” With that life-changing revelation, she smiled again and walked away.

“What the fuck?” Was it that obvious how he felt about Sammy, that their waitress would point it out to him? And what was that about Sam feeling the same way about him?

Dean jumped when Sam plopped down across from him in the booth, he hadn’t even heard him approach. 

“What?” Sam asked before taking a sip of his drink.

“Huh?”

“Dude, I’ve never seen you so jumpy, and right before I sat down you said ‘what the fuck?’ So, what?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing, she just remembers our drink order. It threw me off.” That wasn’t even close to a good lie.

Sam didn’t seem to buy it either. “Right.” He pretended to look over the menu. “Same ole, same ole?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

When the waitress, Cindy, came up she shot Dean a knowing look while Sam ordered for the both of them. The same double bacon cheeseburger for Dean, and the grilled chicken salad for Sam. She told them it wouldn’t take long and mentioned that their pie of the day was strawberry before walking to the kitchen to put their order in.

“Spooky, it’s like we come here every week or something.” Sam laughed at his own joke.

Dean realized that he was still on edge and tried to relax. “Right, I guess I’m still getting used to being a regular somewhere else. We haven’t even been here that long. It’s weird, isn’t it? You reckon we’ll ever get used to it here?”

Sam smiled and shook his head. “Maybe one day. We’ll look back and realize that we never knew when it happened, just like Poughkeepsie.”

That made Dean smile. In New York, the thought of them staying there long term had never crossed their minds; eventually, Sam was going to go to college somewhere. The implication that they would also be together in Sam’s future didn’t go unnoticed. 

They sat in silence for a moment before they both started to speak at the same time, saying, “About last night.” Sam laughed and shook his head and Dean just froze in place, not thinking that Sam would have brought it up. Losing the courage he had built up he nodded for Sam to go first.

“Going to that place was Jessica’s idea. I had no idea you would be there.”

Finding something to latch onto Dean grabbed it and ran. “So, who’s Jessica? Do I need to have a talk with her about her intentions with my baby brother?” As quickly as Sam’s face lit up, Dean already had his answer. “Well, I hope you’re playing it safe, Sam. You never know with these Californication girls out here.”

Sam choked on his reply at that last comment and took a sip of his drink. “I’m not an idiot, Dean. And I could say the same thing to you. Who was that woman you were with? Y’all seemed pretty cozy.” The look on Sam’s face was a mix of satisfied, obnoxious little brother and thinly veiled concern. 

Sam had set him up perfectly to come clean. All he had to do was say that she was a client and then (mostly) everything would be out in the open. If only Dean weren’t such a coward.

“She’s a friend of Chuck’s.” Dean hated himself. “Yeah, she was in town, and Chuck asked me if I could take her out, ya know? Show her a good time.”

“So, your boss pimped you out to some old lady?” Sam had no idea how right he was, and he looked incredulous.

“Hey, she wasn’t that old.” 

“Dean, she was pushing 40!”

Just in time, Cindy came up with their food and the conversation got put on hold while they ate. Dean could hardly enjoy his burger with the feeling of guilt sitting so heavy in the pit of his stomach. He blew a perfectly good opportunity to come clean, but obviously, he wasn’t ready for that conversation, yet. 

While they waited for Cindy to come back with their pie, Sam brought it back up. “You gonna see her again?” He wasn’t even looking at him as he asked, was it that repulsive of an idea to him?

“No, probably not. That was a one time deal.”

“Did you like her?” 

“Sam, I hardly knew her. She was alright, I guess. What’s with the twenty questions?”

“It just looked to me like you guys had hit it off is all. I just want you to be happy, Dean. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m never gonna stop worrying about you, Sammy. That’s never gonna happen.” Dean paused while he took a sip of his drink. “What about Jess, you like her?”

“Dean-”

“Naw, Sammy. You asked me, now I get to ask you. You see yourself with a girl like her? Tall, blonde, let me guess, she likes caviar and using Daddy’s credit card whenever she can, right?”

“What’s gotten into you, Dean. You don’t even know her.”

“And you do?” Dean didn’t mean to be so challenging, he really didn’t know the girl, but if he had to put money on it, he would say that she’d already fucked him; and that was not something Dean was prepared for. 

“We have class together, and we’ve hung out a couple of times.”

“‘Hung out.’ Is that what the nerdy kids are calling it nowadays?”

“You know what? That’s none of your business, Dean!”

“Right back atcha, Sammy.”

Sam shook his head and got out of the booth just in time to nearly knock poor Cindy off her feet as she delivered their pies.

“Leavin’ so soon, hun?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta get somewhere,” Sam answered back, leaving Dean with no question that he was going to meet Jessica. Without another word, he was gone.

“Don’t worry, you guys will work it out. I’ve never seen a pair so connected before, and I’ve been waiting tables for going on thirty years. He’ll come around.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, ma’am.” Dean looked at the bright red pies sitting in front of him. “Uh, Cindy? You think you could grab me a box for these?”

“Sure thing, hun. Be right back.”

****

Later that afternoon, when Dean finally decided to dig into those pies, he realized that he was supposed to have asked Sam what his weekend plans were. Dean had been booked for a stripping gig for some--probably closeted--frat bros at Stanford for a Christmas party they were throwing. With Christmas still being a few weeks away, Dean figured that they just wanted to throw the party before people started leaving after finals. 

He didn’t really see Sammy going to a frat party, but who knew what this Jessica girl was into, and Dean didn’t want another surprise. Seeing Dean out with some lady was a far cry from walking in on him in a g-string shaking it for singles. But the money was good, and those Stanford frat boys knew how to tip. 

With his mouth full of sweet California strawberry pie, Dean picked up his phone. He stared at it for a second before deciding that he should call instead of texting. The phone rang four times, and just when Dean thought that it would go to voicemail, Sam answered.

“Hello?” He sounded breathless, maybe he was out for a run.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Dean?” What was he doing?

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t really know what that was about.”

“Yeah, me too. Look….” He laughed a little, and it sounded like he wasn’t alone. “I’m, um, a little busy right now. Can I call you back?”

“Yeah, sure. Whenever you get free.”

“Alright-” No sooner had the word left his mouth, the phone disconnected. 

Dean tried to squelch the feeling of jealousy that rose up in him. It wasn’t fair to Sam; he deserved to have fun, and fuck pretty girls, and, god forbid, fall in love. That’s why Dean was literally working his ass off, to give Sammy a happy, normal life. He was going to leave him eventually; Dean had just hoped it wouldn’t be quite so soon. 

Turning the TV on, Dean settled in for the night watching Matlock reruns on TVLand. When ten o’clock rolled around, he shut the TV off and got ready for bed, making sure to bring his phone with him. He dozed off sometime after eleven, still waiting for his phone to ring.


	3. Chapter 3

[ ](https://imgur.com/dCstJ2x)

Sam woke up feeling like shit. He felt bad for fighting with Dean and even worse for running off to have hate sex with Jessica afterward. Not that she seemed to mind him being rough with her, in fact, she seemed to enjoy it a little bit more, looking back on it. But that didn’t make him feel any better about it. 

Brady had gotten back that afternoon and had had shots waiting for him when he got home. Sam should have known better than to accept the shots. Before Sam knew what was happening, they were a bottle in and sharing what Brady called their ‘sexcapades’ from Thanksgiving break. Sam had rolled into bed shortly after midnight, fully clothed and slightly nauseous. 

As he brushed his teeth he remembered that he was supposed to have called Dean when he left Jessica’s and had forgotten. He rinsed his mouth out and grabbed his phone. He didn’t have any missed calls or texts, but that didn’t mean that Dean hadn’t been waiting for a call back. 

It was just after eight, Sam’s first class was at nine, which was the same time Dean was supposed to be at the shop. Sam hit the speed dial and put his phone on speaker while he rifled through his drawers for a clean shirt and pants. 

It rang twice before Dean picked up. “It’s about time Sammy, I was getting ready to call in the guard.”

“I think the guard’s got more important things to do than to help you find your little brother, Dean.” Sam laughed, glad that he didn’t seem to be too pissed at him. 

“Yeah, well, I hope you had a good night.”

His question was clear, but Sam dodged it. “Did you have something you needed to ask me? I figured I’d call while I’m getting ready for class.”

“Yeah, I’m getting ready for work myself. Uh, I was just wondering if you ever go to any frat parties?”

That was a weird question, Sam couldn’t think of where this conversation was heading, so he answered honestly, “Um, no. I haven’t pledged, or been invited to any. Mostly I just get dragged along to house parties by my roommates.”

“Right, gotcha.”

“Why are you asking?”

“No reason, just never really had the talk with you about yuppie assholes with their secret brotherhood, brainwashing cult-type shit.”

“Okay,” Sam dragged the word out. “I promise not to get brainwashed and join a yuppie cult.” He laughed at how absurd it sounded saying it out loud. 

“Good.” 

Sam could see his brother pursing his lips together and nodding his head like he had just saved him from himself. “Anything else?”

“Nope, just watch out for Barbies with the clap!”

“I think I’m good there, too, Dean.”

“Atta boy, see ya later, bitch.”

“Alright, jerk.” Sam closed his phone and shook his head. It might just be him, but something definitely was going on with his brother. He was acting even weirder than usual. 

****

The week flew by, and before he knew it, Brady was trying to talk Sam into going to the Kappa Sigma Christmas party Saturday night. Nothing new, Brady tried to get him to go out every weekend, but he’d never mentioned a fraternity party before. If he was being honest with himself, he had been curious about the concept of fraternities. They were great places to make contacts and network for his future. If he was going to make it in the Ivy League, that’s what he needed to do. 

He held off saying yes to Brady, still debating whether it would be more beneficial for him to go for networking purposes, or study for his economics final. Jessica texting him the morning of the party, telling him to pick her up at nine for the party ended up being the final shove he needed to make up his mind.

Brady congratulated himself fervently for being a major cause of Sam’s newfound ability to let loose. When Sam mentioned Jessica, Brady got even more excited. Also taking credit for them getting together. Sam just shook his head and laughed, not really wanting to burst his bubble. He wasn’t entirely sure that he and Jessica were actually together, they had never talked about it. 

The more Sam thought about it, the worst he felt. Sure, she had initiated it, but Sam still felt like he had taken advantage of her by sleeping with her, twice. His heart just wasn’t in it; especially when he had used her to let off some steam after his fight with Dean. It wasn’t fair to her. Sam was going to have to have a serious talk with her, one that hopefully didn’t come after they fucked again.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to fly by, and before he knew it, Sam had pulled up to Jessica’s house to drive her and a few of her friends to the K-sig house. Sam was a little relieved to have a car full of girls so that he wasn’t alone with Jess, both because it made her slightly less handsy, and it meant that he could wait to have that conversation with her. 

They were only at the party for an hour before Brady came up and slapped Sam on the back, almost making him dump his entire beer all over Jessica. 

“You ass, what the fuck?” Jess screamed at his very drunk friend.

Not paying any mind to her, at all, Brady leaned in close to Sam’s face, the smell of hops unbearable. “You’re cool, right, Sam?”

“Yeah, Brady, sure. Are you okay?” Sam was supporting half of Brady’s weight.

“No, man. I know you’re cool, but are you, like, _cool_?” He emphasized the last word with his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, man. I’m cool. What is going on?” Obviously, Brady was trying to rope Sam into something, he just had no idea what it could be. 

That seemed to be enough verification for Brady, though. “Okay, then! Follow me!” He called as he spun on his heel, damn near taking three people down with him as he made the move.

“Sam, maybe you should take him home.” Jessica had gone past mad and into worried, seeing how far gone he really was.

“That’s a great idea. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Sam draped Brady’s arm over his shoulders and started walking him to the door. Before they made it out, however, they were stopped by one of the guys from the fraternity. 

“You Brady’s friend, Sam?”

Sam shifted under Brady’s weight. “Yeah, what gave me away?”

The guy laughed. “He said you were funny; come on, party’s in the back!” Without another word the guy walked off, obviously expecting Sam to follow. 

Maybe there would be somewhere to lay Brady down wherever they were headed. They ended up going down some stairs after turning down a narrow hallway, Sam almost dropped Brady, twice. When they got to what looked like a finished basement the guy turned to look Sam over again and asked, “You’re cool, right?”

Sam balked, “Why is everyone asking me that? Yeah, I’m cool, now what is going on? Where are we?”

The guy just smirked at him then opened the door. Imitation fog billowed from the opening and what sounded like remix porn music filled his ears. What the hell was he walking in to? He should have paid better attention when Dean tried to warn him about yuppie brainwashing fraternity cults.

Not seeing any way out of the invitation to enter the room, Sam took a few tentative steps forward. Someone he didn’t know came toward him, yelling something about Brady being a lush and then took his friend to lay him on a couch against the wall. 

Now being unladen, and able to stretch his back out, Sam was able to get a proper look around the room. There were sofas and plush chairs arranged haphazardly around the space, the lights were all out, except for a strobe light and some string lights on the bar. The entire room was full of fog, and there was a small raised, stage-like, area in the corner. Sam couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a half-naked man dancing on the stage.

He was topless, wearing a black leather cowboy hat and matching assless chaps. He had dollar bills tucked into the band of his pants and he was swinging his hips seductively to the music. He was hypnotic. Dean had taken Sam to a strip club for his eighteenth birthday, even paid for him to get a lap dance, but it hadn’t been anything like this. 

“Hot itn’t ‘e?” the guy who brought him down asked in his ear.

Sam hadn’t ever looked at a guy, apart from his brother, that way, but honestly, the guy was hot. “Yeah, he is.” Sam was just as shocked as he sounded when he said it, and the guy clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Brady said you were cool!” And with that, he took a seat in one of the empty chairs to enjoy the show.

Sam looked around for an available seat. He was intrigued by this dancer, and he didn’t want to leave Brady down in the basement with these guys he didn’t know. Even if they were ‘cool’. Sam chose not to share a couch with a guy who was openly jerking off, and instead, opted for a chair closer to the stage.

Now that he was closer, he was able to get a better look at the dancer. He laughed when he noticed the man was covered in freckles, reminding him, perversely, of his brother. The guy even had bowed legs, also like Dean. In fact, Sam could almost swear that the stripper had a recent cut on the same part of his upper thigh where Dean had hurt himself at Bobby’s. 

Before Sam could even register his thoughts, the man turned around leaving him face to crotch with his stripper big brother. All of the blood rushed from Sam’s head and his dick swelled so fast, it left him reeling. Dean was a _stripper_. The _stripper_ was _Dean_.

[ ](https://imgur.com/DvB1Uqw)

Suddenly, everything made sense. That strange woman Dean was with at the restaurant, all the extra money, the nicer clothes, the plane tickets, the random out of town trips he would go on. Dean was prostituting himself to put Sam through law school. Sam’s stomach dropped and the beers he’d had weren’t doing him any favors. 

Sam sat openly staring, wide-eyed at his brother, unable to peel his gaze away. Dean’s swaying faltered when he laid eyes on him for the first time. Fear and shame took over his face for a split second, but long enough for Sam to catch it. Dean stepped down off the stage and Sam’s heart flew into his throat as his brother sashayed right into his lap.

“Say nothing, act casual,” Dean whispered in his ear; leave it to his nerdy big brother to quote _Young Frankenstein_ while gyrating in his baby brother’s lap. There was little else Sam could do but let Dean do his thing while all the guys around him hooted and hollered. “Follow my lead,” Dean whispered again and grabbed Sam’s money clip out of his pocket holding it above his head and yelling, “Yeehaw!” He gripped Sam’s hand tight and hauled him behind him as he walked off through a door, into the back yard.

His face fell as soon as he looked around and saw that they were alone. “I’m so sorry, Sammy.”

“Jesus Christ, Dean!” Sam couldn’t control himself. Anger, humiliation, and guilt all warred with each other to dominate his reaction. Sam could only imagine what else Dean did for money, or if it was just stripping for frat-boys, and fake dating rich women; then an even more sickening thought crossed his mind. “How long?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Sammy.”

“How long have you been selling yourself to take care of me?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the ground by Sam’s feet. “Since Poughkeepsie.”

Sam felt like the whole world had just gone sideways. “Poughkeepsie?” Dean nodded, still avoiding Sam’s eyes. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it and he swallowed hard before asking his next question. “Before or after we left Dad?” 

Dean’s bottom lip started to quiver and he hugged himself tighter before he answered. “Shortly after. I had been working at that shop on Washington Street. Things were getting tight and we were gonna get kicked out of the only place in town I could afford. Then there was that ski trip you wanted to go on. One of the guys said that there was a guy that he knew that could hook me up with some really quick cash.”

Sam felt sick. “So, this is all my fault?”

“Sam, it’s nobody’s fault. I do this because I _like_ it, and it just happens to pay _really_ good money.”

Sam bit his lip and shook his head, the words still flew out despite his will. “Nobody likes being a hooker Dean! And this _is_ all my fault!”

“Dammit, Sammy. I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that? So what if I’ve got to make out with some random socialite or dance to some god awful music for a bunch of closeted preps? You get to live the life you always wanted. The life you _deserve_.”

“And what about what _you_ deserve? Huh, Dean? You didn’t even get a childhood because of me, having to raise me, practically on your own.” His anger swelled. “Man, I love you! You deserve so much more than this!”

Tears were streaming down both of their faces and Sam didn’t have a moment to react when Dean was suddenly pushing him into the wall, their mouths sealed together. Dean’s lips were soft but sure, as they guided Sam’s in a messy desperate kiss. Sam couldn’t help but kiss him back, it was everything he had ever fantasized about, minus the leather chaps. 

Dean’s hips were grinding into Sam’s, both of their cocks hard and rubbing salaciously against one another. All too soon, Dean pulled back, his pupils as big as saucers as he gauged Sam’s reaction. Before either one of them could say--or do--anything else, the door they had come out of opened and a drunk frat-boy stuck his head out.

“Alright dude, you’ve had your fun, it’s time to give us back our entertainment!”

Dean held Sam back when he went to take a swing at the guy. “No, Sammy. He’s right, I need to get back in there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Sam didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t sure what he thought was going to happen after he and Dean had finally kissed for the first time, but it sure as hell wasn’t Dean stripping in the basement of a fraternity.

“I’ve gotta go, Sammy.” Dean looked like Odysseus, stuck between Scylla and Charybdis; a literal rock wall and a hard place.

Sam ripped his arm out of his brother’s grasp, thundered back into the house, and stormed across the room. He slapped Brady in the face, probably much harder than he needed to, then lifted him to his feet. Sam took one final glance over his shoulder to see a couple of guys herding Dean back to the stage, his eyes still on Sam.

“Come on, Brady, we’re out of here!” 

Brady came to halfway up the stairs and mumbled something about the best night ever. Sam rolled his eyes, he couldn’t disagree more. 

He ran into Jessica in the foyer before he could get to the front door. She looked like she was preparing herself for a very serious conversation. 

“It’s not a good time, Jess,” Sam stated as nicely as he could.

“I saw.” Those two words were enough to stop Sam in his tracks. He let Brady drop to the floor as he turned slowly to face her. “In the backyard. I saw you with that cowboy.”

At least she didn’t know who ‘that cowboy’ really was. ‘Gay’ was something he could handle, ‘gay with his _brother_’ he was pretty sure could get them both jail time. Sam didn’t know what to say, how to even begin to explain what was going on with him.

“God, your face! It’s okay, Sam. You’re bi, I get it. I’m not judging you, I just wanted you to know that I knew. You don’t have to keep secrets from me. We’re just having fun.” She smiled brightly at him as if she had just fixed all of his problems, then kissed his cheek and returned to the party.

Sam needed to punch something.

[ ](https://imgur.com/kkDcOJ3)

It was well past two in the morning, but Dean had to check on Sam and the kid wasn’t answering his calls or texts. Dean stared at the door for a solid minute before knocking. There was a shuffle and the sound of glass clinking together before Sam fell into the door. 

When it finally opened, Dean could smell the whiskey rolling off of his baby brother and it made his heart ache. Sam’s right hand held onto the door as his left arm rested fully on the door frame, holding him upright. His eyes were glassy, and Dean noticed his knuckles were bloody, like he’d punched a brick wall. 

“You gonna let me in, Sammy?”

Sam didn’t budge. “I can’t believe you never told me, Dean. I had a right to know that my big brother was fucking people for money to put food on the table!” 

Dean looked around nervously, Sam wasn’t yelling, but he was being loud enough. “It has nothing to do with you, Sam! I did what I had to do to make money!” Dean took a deep breath, he did not come to fight with his brother, he came to set things straight. “Look, I’m not going to apologize. I like what I do, and I’m damn good at my job.” Sam scoffed but Dean carried on. “It’s not all stripteases and fucking people; believe it or not. Some people just want company, some need eye candy, who don’t want anything from them, to take to a party. At first-”

“When?”

“Huh?”

“When exactly was ‘at first?’ The fucking people part. When we moved here?” Dean said nothing, unable to look Sam in the eye. “In Poughkeepsie?” Sam asked, sounding equal parts surprised and sad. Dean looked up at him then, unable to speak his confirmation. “Dean.” His voice cracked around his name like it hadn’t done in years, his heartbreak evident.

Dean cleared his throat and started over. “At first, it was just sex. I’m not gonna go into specifics, but it wasn’t great. But once I got the lay of the land, I realized where the big money was. And then we moved here, and let me tell ya….” Dean tried to laugh but the stern look on Sam’s face made him stop at a smirk. 

“Why did you come here tonight, Dean?” Now that he had lost his bite, Sam just looked exhausted.

“I just… I needed to explain myself. And I wanted to make sure you were okay after-”

“After my big brother gave me a lap dance and kissed me stupid at a frat party?”

“Well, yeah. And I wanted to tell you that… fuck, Sammy, I’m so sorry.”

Sam’s face flinched and his lip ticked. “Sorry? Sorry for being a hooker and not telling me? Or sorry for grinding our dicks together in public, then leaving me to finish your stripper gig? _Christ_, Dean! Do you know how fucked up all of this is?”

Dean’s heart broke, he had thought for sure that Sam had felt the same way he did; clearly, he was wrong. “Sammy, I- I don’t want to lie to you, anymore.” 

“Well, now I know.”

“Not about that.” Dean looked down the hall, all the doors were closed, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t have an audience. “Look, can I just come in so we can talk?”

“It’s late, Dean. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Right. It’s just… what I have to say is-”

“Just spit it out!”

“I don’t regret what we did.” Sam didn’t say anything, so Dean kept going. “Sam, I’ve thought about doing that with you for, fuck, for longer than I should have. Not that I should have ever started. _Dammit_. This is not how I wanted to do this.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair and looked into his brother’s eyes. “Sammy, I’ve never wanted anything like I’ve wanted you. I’d do anything for you, my whole life all I’ve wanted was for you to be happy. But the thought of you being with anybody else makes me sick. I want to be the one that’s there for you, to take care of you, to celebrate with you. I’ve thought about being with you since before I knew that people were meant to be with each other. It’s me and you, Sam; it’s always been me and you.” 

Sam had tears rolling down his cheeks and when Dean reached out to comfort him, Sam backed away. Dean’s heart literally hurt and he suddenly couldn’t breathe as he watched his baby brother shake his head and close the door between them. The soft click as the latch locked the door closed was deafening. It was the sound of ‘no’. It was the sound of Dean’s heart shattering into a million pieces. He reached his hand out to touch the door, certain that he had dreamed getting shut out of his baby brother’s life.

Dean tried his damnedest to hold back the tears building in his chest until he got home, but as soon as he sat behind the wheel and shut the door on his beloved Baby, he started to sob. His chest was heaving and the pressure behind his eyes was burning him from the inside. As soon as he could take a breath it would be released in the form of a wail as fat tears cascaded down his face, into his hands, then down onto Baby’s worn leather seats. 

He couldn’t believe that he let himself think that he could keep Sammy after what had happened, after what he’d done to him. After so many years of holding himself back, keeping himself in check, he’d fucked it all up. He’d lost his baby brother forever. Sam would never lay eyes on him again. 

At some point, he ran out of tears and found himself curled up on the front seat. He wasn’t sure how long he had lain there, trying his best to go numb, to stop thinking of the shame in Sam’s eyes as he literally shut him out of his life. As the sun started to lighten the sky, Dean made himself sit up and drive back to his place where he crawled into bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. He shut off his phone, pulled the blanket over his head, and closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

[ ](https://imgur.com/dCstJ2x)

Sam hadn’t been able to focus on classes all week. Any other time that would have been okay, except that finals were days away and Sam couldn’t get the feel of his brother’s lips, or the look of heartbreak on his face, out of his thoughts for more than five minutes. At this rate, he was going to fail all of his classes and be an even bigger disappointment to Dean. 

Friday afternoon Sam had a missed call and a voice mail from Dean’s work. Apparently, he had taken a couple of sick days but hadn’t called or been back to the shop since he’d called out Monday morning, and Chuck was getting worried. Sam hadn’t even tried calling or texting him after he had drunkenly shut the door in his face. That was early Sunday morning, it had been nearly a week since they’d spoken. They’d never been apart for so long their entire lives. It physically hurt to be so estranged from his brother. 

Sam decided that it had been long enough for them both to think about, not only what had happened, but what was _going_ to happen between them. His last class got out at five, so he showered, made his excuses to Brady, then made his way over to Dean’s.

The Impala was in the drive, so unless he’d walked, or called a cab, Sam figured Dean should be home. His palms were sweaty as he walked up to the door, and rubbing them on his jeans wasn’t doing much to help. He took in a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It felt so strange not to just walk into the house they had shared when they’d first moved across the country. Given the circumstances, Sam felt that it would be an intrusion. 

He waited a few seconds, but when he didn’t hear anything, he rang the bell again. When there still wasn’t a response he knocked as loud as he could and called out Dean’s name. This time he heard glass clattering and a loud thump. Sam wasted no time slipping his key into the lock and running into the house, frantically searching for his brother.

Sam checked the bedroom first, finding nothing but empty bottles and discarded clothes littering the floor. He made his way to the bathroom next, the sight of that was even more concerning than the bedroom had been. Bypassing the kitchen, Sam walked into the living room to find Dean passed out, face down on the floor, in only his boxers. 

There were even more bottles scattered around this room, and a couple of mostly empty pizza boxes, so at least he had eaten something at some point during the week. Sam carefully bent down to lift Dean up, only to have him twist out of his hold halfway to the couch and fall back down, hard, on his shoulder.

Sam tried again and got a better grip on his arm this time, successfully hoisting him into a somewhat sprawled position on the couch. Once he caught his breath, he put himself under Dean’s arm and stood, barely able to support Dean’s full weight. The walk to the bathroom took longer than Sam would have liked. The last time Sam had to deadlift his brother’s semi-conscious body, he’d had fear and adrenaline to help him; this time, all he had was annoyance and stubbornness.

Once they made it to the bathroom, Sam laid Dean down beside the tub, turned the shower on to warm up, then took off his shirt. When the water was warm enough, he got Dean out of his boxers and maneuvered him under the spray. At first, he had no reaction, but as the water ran over his face, he started to flail, his instinct to not drown kicking in. Sam helped Dean to lean against the back of the tub and began to wash him. He watched as days’ worth of sweat and grime washed down the drain along with the soap suds. 

Once Dean’s body was clean, Sam took care to wash his hair without getting soap in his eyes as he rinsed it out. Drying him off was more of a hassle than he had bargained for, so he did the best he could, then left him in the tub to change the sheets on his bed. With fresh sheets and a clean pair of boxers, Sam readied his brother for bed. Dean was able to help a little, but still relied mostly on him when it came time to climb out of the tub and walk back to his bedroom. 

With Dean safely tucked in bed, Sam set to work cleaning the house. He took out two trash bags filled with liquor and beer bottles to the recycling, and another bag full of pizza boxes and old to-go containers out of the fridge. Sam found some sauce that was still good, and a box of pasta in the cabinet, so he cooked that and grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge to bring in for Dean to eat and drink something.

As soon as Sam sat down with the food, Dean’s stomach rumbled but he just groaned and rolled away from him, hiding further under the covers.

“Come on, De. You’ve got to eat something.” Dean only groaned louder. “At least drink some water.”

Sam held the bottle out and one of Dean’s hands appeared to snatch it from him. He listened as his brother cracked the seal on the top and chugged down the entire bottle. Sam smiled and held out the other bottle, which Dean took, but he only drank half of it.

“You ready to eat, now?” Sam asked, peeking at Dean from the gap in the comforter. He took a bite of the pasta to entice him and only then realized that he hadn’t eaten that day. His stomach clenched as he realized he was ravenous.

Sam took an even bigger bite, rolling the noodles over his tongue as he chewed, savoring the sauce. ‘There’s nothing like eating comfort food, in bed, when you need comforting,’ Sam thought, remembering a time when Dean had said that to him. After his fourth bite, Dean threw back the covers and grabbed the bowl from Sam’s hands, looking just as ravenous as Sam felt. He let Dean have that bowl and went back to the kitchen to fill a second one for himself and grabbed a couple more bottles of water. 

They ate their fill in silence, propped up against the headboard. Nothing but the sloshy sounds of wet pasta and their own breathing between them. When Dean finished off his second bottle of water, Sam handed him another. After they ate their fill, Sam took both bowls into the kitchen and put them in the sink. 

He grabbed one more bottle of water and went back to Dean’s room. His brother was tucked under the covers and snoring soundly. Sam didn’t even hesitate to strip down to his boxers and slide in behind him, wrapping him in his arms and matching his breaths until he, too, fell asleep.

[ ](https://imgur.com/kkDcOJ3)

For the first time in six days, Dean woke up with a clear head. He didn’t feel clammy, his stomach didn’t taste sour, and he was actually able to remember some of the night before. Enough to not wonder whose arms were wrapped around him, whose breath was warming his neck. For the second time in almost as many weeks, Dean woke up safe and warm in his baby brother’s embrace.

The fact that Sam was in his house, let alone practically naked in his bed, was making Dean feel like he was still passed out cold from yet another bottle of Jack. The concept that his brother would want anything to do with him, after everything that had happened, was incomprehensible. Not only had Sam found out, in the worst possible way, about Dean’s side job, but for Dean to have accosted his baby brother the way he had? Yet there he was, arms in a vice grip around him, refusing to let him go.

Dean would have been happy to lie there till the day he died, but the protest from his bladder finally won out against his desire to laze in his brother’s arms. Sam made a small noise of protest when Dean shimmied his way out from his grip, then quickly rolled over to his front and wrapped his arms around the pillow that he’d shoved his face into. 

The walk to the bathroom was surprisingly devoid of empty bottles and piles of clothes. Dean noticed with a pang of guilt and humiliation that Sam must have helped him shower as well as cleaned his house. When he was finished using the bathroom and brushing his teeth, he made his way into the kitchen. The only dishes that were in the sink were from the pasta Sam had made the night before and there was hardly anything in the refrigerator to eat. 

Sam really had cleaned his entire house. Dean didn’t think he had been that out of it, but looking around now, he could see how out of hand he had let everything get. Grief was weird that way. For the first time, he felt like he could understand why their dad had gone so far off the deep end after their mom had died. At least he still had Sammy, or so it seemed.

He rifled through the cabinets and came up empty for anything to cook for breakfast. Checking to make sure that Sam was still asleep in his bed, Dean left to get food. Cindy was surprised to see him at the diner since neither of them had been in the previous weekend and it was Saturday. He ordered two of their biggest, greasiest breakfasts and two large cups of coffee. It was slow, so Cindy made small talk while he waited for his order; she had assumed there had been a fight and smiled as he told her that they were working through things. 

Sam was in the bathroom when Dean got back, so he went straight to the kitchen table and laid out their breakfasts. Dean cleared the nerves from his throat when Sam came through the door ruffling his shaggy hair, still wearing only his boxers. Not saying anything, Dean gestured for Sam to sit and slid the second cup of coffee toward his chosen seat. They ate in silence, but Dean could feel both of them dying to move past their awkward reunion. 

When Sam was almost finished eating, Dean decided he should start the inevitable conversation. “Thank you, Sam.” His brother simply smiled at him and took a sip of his coffee before cutting off another bite of his waffle. “I can’t imagine why you came over, or what possessed you to stay, let alone clean up-”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You’re an idiot. Ditching work for a whole week, not calling to check-in with anyone, drinking yourself unconscious. You know, for a split second I thought you were dead?”

“For a split second, I wanted to be.”

Sam shook his head. “Fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a screw-up, okay? I’m sorry I’m a deadbeat like Dad, Sam, I really am. But I just knew that I had lost you for good. I fucked up big time, and I get that. But I don’t regret anything I’ve done.”

Sam pursed his lips together, and took his time before asking, “Not even… kissing me?”

The insecurity in his baby brother’s voice made Dean stop and think before he answered. “_Especially_ not kissing you.”

Neither one of them spoke for a minute, letting Dean’s confession hang in the air. Dean refused to feel hopeful and suddenly found the dirt under his fingernails to be extraordinarily inconvenient. He wasn’t even sure how he had let it get that bad. He was generally a stickler for clean fingers, especially being a mechanic. There’s no bigger turn-off, or health risk, than having dirty fingers. 

“Just go grab your nail brush already,” Sam commented quietly. 

Dean flushed, loving that Sam knew him well enough to know exactly what Dean was thinking, and how much it was bothering him. Not wanting to chance Sam sneaking out on him, Dean used the sink and nail brush in the kitchen to quickly wash his hands and underneath his fingernails. Dean sat back down and smiled at his brother.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Feel better, now?”

“I really don’t know what’s going on here, Sam.”

“And you think I do? I find out that the guy I’ve looked up to my whole life, my big brother, has been putting himself at risk for _at least_ the past two years, just so I could eat and go to school? Dean, I never wanted anything like this to ever happen to you, let alone for you to feel like you had to do it for _me_.”

“Someone had to take care of you, Sammy, and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna be Dad. Fixin’ cars wasn’t cuttin’ it. It was only supposed to be for a little while, then it got easier and easier and I could make more and more money and really provide for you.” Sam went to say something, but Dean kept going. “I know you never asked me for anything, but I never wanted you to _have_ to.” Dean stopped and took a deep breath, then added, “And I’m not at risk of anything, the agency is really good about that.”

Sam pressed his lips together and nodded. “So, you work for an agency?”

“I work _through_ an agency, yes.”

“So then, Benny is-”

“My contact at the agency.”

“Your pimp.”

“No. He doesn’t own me, and he sure as hell doesn’t tell me what, or who, to do. He’s just the one that handles my clients when they call in.”

“And you said that you don’t always fuck them?”

“Not always, but it’s never off the table. Look, Sam, I get that you’ve probably got a million questions. And I swear I’ll answer every single one of them; but why are you actually here?”

Dean watched in awe as Sam’s cheeks flushed and he bit down on his bottom lip. His heart nearly stopped when Sam looked up at him through his bangs and crazy eyelashes. “Honestly? Because I can’t get that kiss out of my head. You think you’re fucked up? I’ve wanted you my whole life, Dean. Like you said, ‘since before I knew people were meant to be together’; it’s meant to be you and me.” Sam’s voice dropped to a whisper when he added, “It’s never felt right with anyone else.”

Dean was speechless. He had been certain that Sam was disgusted by him, by what he had done. Why else would he have literally shut him out later that night? “Sammy.” His voice broke around his brother’s name. “I thought for sure-”

“That I’d hate you?” They both laughed and Sam shook his head. “Yeah, me, too. I guess we’re both idiots.”

“I could never hate you, Sammy.” 

Neither one of them spoke for a moment, then Sam broke the silence and asked, “So, what do we do now?”

Dean thought about it and slowly reached his hand across the table to where Sam was fiddling with his coffee cup. As he got close, Sam’s hand left the cup but didn’t shy away from Dean’s tentative touch. He let their fingers slide over and between each other’s until they were entwined. Sam’s hand was sweaty and Dean’s heart felt as if it would burst from his chest. It was like they were touching each other for the very first time.

Sam let out a heavy breath and watched their hands as he gently squeezed their fingers together. Dean couldn’t bring himself to look away either; as if taking his eyes away would reveal that it was all an illusion, a trick played on him by some spiteful god. He wanted this moment seared into his memory for the rest of his life. The moment there were no more lies between them, only their love.


	5. Chapter 5

[ ](https://imgur.com/dCstJ2x)

Sam had never felt so vulnerable in his entire life. Not only admitting to his brother how he actually felt about him but letting himself fully succumb to those feelings. He had spent his adolescence pining after Dean, only to find out that all he’d had to do was say something.

When Sam finally broke his eyes away from their joined hands, he looked up to see Dean staring back at him with pure wonderment on his face. He had never seen his brother look at him like that before, at least, not that he had noticed. Dean’s thumb rubbed across the back of Sam’s hand, soothing his nerves. 

Sam took in a deep breath and let it back out through parted lips, surprised that his breath was even and not shaky. His lips twitched into a small smirk which, he noticed, matched Dean’s. At the same time, they both let out a nervous laugh and squeezed the other’s hand, then laughed a little louder.

“You always did copy me,” Dean joked.

“To be fair, you were my _only_ role model.”

“That’s true.” Dean played with Sam’s fingers some more before looking Sam in the eye again. “Look, I know this ain’t quite right, and I’ve got no business asking you for anything, but do you think maybe… sometime… you’d, maybe want to…?” He lifted his eyebrows and gestured toward the bedroom.

“Did you just ask me if I want to fuck you, Dean?” He could hardly contain the incredulous tone of his voice. 

Dean let go of Sam’s hand, looking taken aback, and blushed, so prettily. “Well, I mean….”

“I’m just dicking with you, jerk.” Sam laughed. 

“Bitch.” Dean’s blush spread and he ducked his chin and grinned to himself. “So… that a ‘yes’?” 

It was Sam’s turn to blush. “I, um, I mean, I’ve never, uh-”

“Sammy, are you tryin’ to say… I thought, there was Amy, and for sure you and Je-”

“No! I mean, yes. You know I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never…,” he shrugged in lieu of saying the words, “with a guy before. I mean, like, other than that stuff we would do, but that’s not the same thing.”

“Right.” Dean sounded resigned.

Sam cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “That doesn’t mean that I haven’t thought about it.”

Dean perked up a that. “Oh, yeah?”

“Well, not guys in general; but yeah, I’ve thought about being with a guy before.” Sam watched as his brother pursed his lips together and nodded. “It’s only ever been you, Dean.”

Dean smiled again and seemed to have gained some of his confidence back. He grabbed Sam’s hand again, squeezing his fingers as he walked around the table before gently pulling him into a standing position. Sam had grown more over the last year and he was still surprised to find himself looking down on his big brother. Dean’s smile was contagious and Sam felt himself having to fight to keep from laughing as Dean kept them hand in hand and led him back into his bedroom. 

Sam watched nervously as Dean kicked off his shoes and began to take his clothes off. He was still only in his boxers since he hadn’t bothered to get dressed once he had smelled the coffee Dean had brought back. He watched as his brother took extra care with folding his clothes and laying them across his dresser, no doubt to put back on later. After. 

After _what_, Sam chose not to think about. He suddenly wished that Dean hadn’t gotten them both such heavy breakfasts. In the back of his mind, he knew that they weren’t going to be going too far since they had both just eaten, and he vaguely remembered reading something once about how disastrous that could get. 

Dean held up the comforter and motioned for Sam to climb in first, so he did, feeling the now cool sheets on his overheated skin. Dean slid in behind him, then lowered the comforter. They both lie down on their sides, facing each other, heads propped up on their hands.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Dean asked him. The hopefulness in his voice was enough to make Sam want to lean in and kiss him. 

Sam figured, since that’s what they were getting to anyways, maybe he could just reach out and touch him the way he’d always dreamt of. “I think I wanna just,” Sam started, then reached forward with his free hand and lamely caressed Dean’s cheek. 

Dean leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. Sam’s hand actually reached almost to the back of Dean’s head, so he let his thumb trail across his cheek and jaw, while he ran his fingers through his hair and over his neck behind his ear. Dean melted under his touch, and Sam felt a rush of warmth that started in his chest and spread to engulf his entire body. He let his instincts take over and leaned forward as he slid his hand further back to cradle Dean’s head in his hand. Sam swallowed and watched as his brother sensed him getting nearer; he saw no sign of panic or trepidation. When Sam was close enough that their noses touched, he paused, taking in a deep breath before delicately pressing their lips together. 

Sam could have sworn that he heard Dean whimper, but he couldn’t be sure from the sound of all the blood rushing through his ears. This was not like when Dean had kissed him at the frat party. There was no urgency in it, no desperation, no fear. This was natural; it was smooth and freeing, like taking in a deep, lung-full of air after holding your breath for a long time. For the first time in his life, Sam felt a true sense of ease. 

Needing more, Sam let his tongue sneak out and swipe across his brother’s plump bottom lip. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dean opened his mouth to him and he slipped his tongue through, as far as he could go. He licked into his brother’s mouth like he was trying to steal the taste of butter and syrup for himself. Dean remained open and willing and pliant as Sam explored this new territory, making Sam grow heavy between his legs. 

Kissing Dean was nothing like kissing any of the girls he had ever made out with. It wasn’t as soft or delicate as it had been with them, but they also hadn’t been nearly as meaningful and life-altering, either. Sam felt Dean’s fingers lightly tracing over his ribs and sliding down to settle on his hip. He groaned and leaned further into him, practically eating his way into his mouth. Dean rolled over onto his back, pulling Sam’s hip so that he would lean over him as he moved. Sam was more than happy to oblige.

They lay there for quite some time exploring each other’s bodies. Sam discovered that Dean’s nipples were very sensitive, and there was a certain spot on his neck that would make him buck his hips. Dean quickly discovered that Sam was very responsive to light touches on his body; he kept tracing patterns on his stomach and sides and ran his nails gently down his back. 

Sam was about as hard as he’d ever been and couldn’t control the roll of his hips as he ground his length along his brother’s thick thigh, soaking his boxers with precome. He worked to mark Dean’s neck, eliciting those delicious moans with every brush of his teeth and tongue.

“Christ, Sammy,” Dean whispered breathlessly.

“Mmm, De,” Sam moaned back, unable to stop his ministrations.

“God, Sam, let me- can I…?” He cut himself off with a groan when Sam let his hand grope over his erection.

“What do you need, big brother?” Sam panted into Dean’s neck.

Dean’s hips bucked at the term of endearment, and he screwed his eyes shut. “Mmm, God, Sammy. I wa- wanna touch you.”

Sam grinned at how strung out he was able to make his brother, just from making out. “You are touching me, De.”

“Need you… more.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Need to…,” he started, then slipped his fingers into the band of Sam’s boxers and began to tug on them. 

Sam’s pulse raced. Deep down, he knew where this was leading. He knew that they would end up naked and touching each other, but the fact that it was actually happening was thrusting his mind into overdrive. He grunted as Dean tugged his boxers down under his ass and they got hung on his cock. He reluctantly pulled his hips away and rolled onto his back, pushing down the comforter so that he could free himself. 

Cool air rushed over Sam’s dick as soon as the fabric was pulled free. Sam watched as Dean made his way down his body to completely remove his boxers and toss them off the side of the bed. Dean made quick work of removing his own shorts, then rolled back over to face Sam again. They were both acutely aware of the fact that there was literally nothing left but air between them. 

Sam resisted the urge he had to pull the comforter back over them as he turned on his side to face his brother again. They held eye contact and Sam took in a settling breath, unable to help the smile that spread across his face. Dean reciprocated then let his eyes wander down to take in all of Sam’s exposed body. Sam felt his skin flush the lower Dean’s eyes moved. With Dean’s focus elsewhere, Sam allowed himself the same luxury, letting his gaze drift over Dean’s chest, noticing the love bites he’d left behind. He counted the abdominal muscles as he traced his way down to his hips. He took his time, lingering over that dipped ‘V’ below his hip bones, before finally letting his eyes reach his brother’s flushed, hard cock.

Sam reflexively licked his lips and Dean’s cock twitched at the action. His eyes shot back up to look at his brother’s face, feeling his own cock swell more at the heat in Dean’s stare. Looking into the green eyes he’d grown up dreaming about, Sam inched his hand forward to lace his fingers together with his brother’s, a grounding gesture.

He had to clear his throat to be able to ask, “What do you need, De?”

Sam watched in wonder as Dean’s face flushed pink, his freckles accentuated by the change. “I wanna touch you, make you come,” he mumbled, looking away from him. 

“Hey,” he started, bringing their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Dean’s knuckles. He let his eyes linger on the leather strap wrapped around his brother’s wrist, a symbol of their affection for each other, even before they knew that’s what it was. “Don’t get shy on me, now. I get the feeling you’ve got way more experience with this kinda thing than I do.”

Dean preened at the praise and grinned up at Sam, green eyes shining through his long lashes. “I wanna do something; show you something.”

“Whatever you want,” Sam replied eagerly, waiting on a precipice for whatever was to come next.

Dean peeled his fingers out from between Sam’s, much to the latter’s disappointment. He should have been expecting what came next, but Sam still jerked when Dean’s slightly calloused fingers gripped his cock. He was tentative, almost gentle with him and he slid his fingers up and down, getting a feel for this new territory. His thumb expertly trailed over the tender area on the underside of his aching erection. 

When he wasn’t met with any resistance, Dean’s confidence crested. He began to grip a little tighter, he let his wrist flick on the downstroke, and he pulled an embarrassing moan from deep in Sam’s chest when he pressed down a little harder right under his cockhead. Sam’s hips lurched forward of their own accord and he threw his head back against the pillow it had abandoned in favor of watching his brother’s hand on his cock.

Dean hummed his approval and leaned in closer; he shifted his hips, then paused. 

Sam whined and lifted his head to see what the hold up was. He felt a little uncomfortable under such a heavy stare from his brother. “What’s wrong?” He barely recognized his own voice, he had barely been touched and he already sounded fucked out.

“I need you to know.” Dean’s voice was just as gravelly and wrecked.

“Know what?”

“I’m clean. I get tested an-”

“Dean, stop.” Sam gave him a look when he started to protest. “I know you wouldn’t do any- look, I trust you. Okay? I _am_ trusting you. You’re my big brother.”

“God, Sammy,” Dean breathed as he closed the distance between them; simultaneously slotting their dicks together and sealing their lips in one quick move.

Sam gasped at the sensation of his brother’s smooth, hot flesh rubbing against his own, unable to concentrate enough to kiss him back. He squeezed his eyes shut once more as Dean rutted against him, holding them both together in one of his lithe hands. Sam felt a squirt of precome leak from his tip, which caused both of them to groan as it slicked its way between them and aided their movements. 

Sam had jerked off many, many times, had his dick sucked by his fair share of girls, and had fucked a few of them, but nothing compared to the feeling of his brother’s hand wrapped around both of their cocks, lubricated with his very own precome. He had never felt the throb of an impending orgasm in tune with his own. He had felt the warm, wet heat wrapped around him convulse, but never the smooth, hard flesh that was just as needy as himself. 

He had hardly noticed that Dean’s mouth had left his and found purchase on his neck; it wasn’t until teeth sunk in, spurring his orgasm, that Sam realized he’d been holding his breath. As soon as the first pulse of his release worked its way through him, Sam got his voice back. He cursed God’s and his brother’s names as he spurted come all over Dean’s hand and both of their cocks. Dean gasped and let out a startled grunt when he followed shortly after, coating both of their stomachs.

Dean worked them both through their aftershocks, neither one able to give anything else. Once they were both done twitching with pleasure, Dean placed a finger between them and skillfully ran his hand up their deflating cocks to clean up most of their mess. Sam was in shock as he watched his brother take his come slick hand and bring it to his mouth. It was lewd the way he sucked and licked himself clean, and Sam couldn’t resist grabbing Dean’s hand and sucking their combined essence off of his remaining finger before he missed his chance.

Sam would never tell anyone this, probably not even Dean, not yet anyway, but Sam liked when girls would snowball him. This wasn’t his first time tasting come, especially not his own, but it was his first time tasting his brother’s. He could taste the difference between them, and it, strangely, made his mouth water for more. He felt Dean’s spent cock strain against his as he ran his tongue between his fingers and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him at his impromptu come-play. 

Dean moved his hand to Sam’s waist and leaned forward to give him a slow, sensual kiss, both of them licking themselves out of the other’s mouth. Sam took the opportunity to pull Dean’s lower lip into his mouth and suck it clean before pulling away with a very satisfying, slurpy pop. 

“Fuck me, Sammy,” Dean moaned, gripping his hip tighter.

“I’d love to,” Sam replied before he even realized he was speaking. He balked for a moment before they both burst into a fit of laughter.

“I’m gonna go get us a wash rag to clean up with, hang tight.” Dean laughed before pecking another quick kiss to Sam’s lips and getting out of bed.

Sam watched Dean’s ass as it bounced across the room and into the bathroom. He closed his eyes and stretched out, contentment like he had never felt before filling him whole. Part of him had expected to feel sullied, or at least guilty, but he couldn’t muster either emotion. Utter satisfaction and genuine happiness oozed their way through every molecule of his being. He was certain, now more than ever, that he and Dean were meant to be more than just brothers. 

While he was lost in his reverie, Dean had come back and shocked him as he started to clean him of the mostly dried come on his stomach. The air cooling the wetness as he moved down to his pubes. Sam hummed to himself and let Dean take care of him. 

“Don’t you look peaceful,” Dean cooed as he crawled back into bed, bringing the comforter with him. 

Sam hummed again, unable to bring himself to speak. He held his arm out and Dean tucked himself into his side without preamble, one arm tucked between them and the other wrapped around his waist. Leaning his head toward Dean’s, Sam took in a deep breath, feeling himself melt further into the mattress. 

Dean nuzzled closer to him and mumbled a barely intelligible, “Thank you.” 

That was the last thing Sam heard before he drifted off into unconsciousness.

[ ](https://imgur.com/kkDcOJ3)

Dean woke up hot, too hot. His face and arms and one of his legs were clammy and stuck to something soft and oven-warm. When he peeled his eyes open he was only mildly surprised to find that he was wrapped around his baby brother. His very naked, very hot, sleeping baby brother. When he closed his eyes again everything that had happened that morning came to the forefront of his mind and he smiled to himself and tucked himself closer to Sam, who had woken up enough to pull him in tighter. 

Sam grumbled a little before greeting him with a groggy, eloquent, “Hey.”

“Mornin’.” Dean still had his eyes closed, not willing to move past this moment. 

They had shared a bed countless times, they had even jerked off for each other on several occasions but never had they crossed _that line_. The line that told them that they were just brothers. They had never touched each other like that; had never aided the other in anything that could, even remotely, be considered sexual. They had definitely never tasted each other’s come. As long as Dean lived, he would never be able to forget the image of his sweet, smart, puppy-eyed baby brother grabbing his hand to lick the come from between his fingers. If he had had it in him, Dean would have come again from the sight. 

Sam chuckled beneath him. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

Dean shook his head. “Don’t care, just woke up. It’s mornin’.”

Sam’s fingers were mindlessly running down his back, causing Dean to both heat up and suppress a shiver. Dean felt his cock stir at the sensation, pressing harder into Sam’s leg. Sam made the movement again, and Dean’s cock twitched. Sam’s breathing was getting heavier, and Dean was trying to control his breath. The third time Sam ran his fingers along Dean’s back, Dean let out a very needy noise as his cock hardened even more. Sam hummed, seemingly satisfied with himself. 

“I love the way you respond to me. I never knew it before, but looking back, I get it. I can see it now, how you had always wanted me to somehow be a part of… _everything_ you did.” Sam seemed to be talking about all the early morning or late night shared bed self-explorations, and the “accidental” walk-ins he would orchestrate when Sam would be getting home from school and Dean would be watching porn on their TV. “You’ve always had a thing for me, huh?”

Dean hummed. “As long as I can remember. I just didn’t know how to handle it, or what to do about it. I’m supposed to take care of you, and most of the time, that’s not exactly what was on my mind. I never wanted to hurt you, Sammy.”

Sam’s hand stopped working its way down Dean’s back, and his other hand came over to lift Dean’s chin so he could look him in the eye. “You’ve never hurt me. I know you never would.” He cleared his throat and added, “So, you still want me to fuck you?”

Dean almost choked on air and jerked away in surprise at Sam’s candor. He could feel his entire body flush, and all he could do was stare down at his brother’s sincere expression. “I, um, I mean-”

Sam reached up and ran a finger over Dean’s cheek. “You’re even hotter when you get all flustered.”

Dean groaned and fell back down, burying his face into Sam’s chest. “Don’t say shit like that, Sammy.”

Sam laughed. “What? It’s true.”

Dean groaned again, then decided that he needed a minute to himself. So many things were happening at once; he needed to process exactly what was happening. He put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and lifted himself up enough to press a quick kiss to his lips, then shoved himself the rest of the way up and out of the warm bed. 

Sam pouted. “Where’re you going?”

“Nowhere, I’m just- I need a minute.”

“Is this because-”

“No, Sammy. I just- I’m fine. I just need a minute to myself.” 

Dean made his way to the bathroom and shut the door. He placed his hands on the sink and braced himself, then looked in the mirror. His cheeks were still flushed, his hair was a mess, and there was a smile a mile wide that didn’t seem to want to leave his lips. He looked happy, it was unsettling. He splashed some water over his face to clear his head, then realized that he had to use the bathroom. With a start, he also realized that if he and Sam were going to be having sex, that’s not the only thing that needed to take place while he was in there. 

He took his time, not wanting to rush himself or the situation. Part of him was still certain that any moment it was going to dawn on Sam how fucked up Dean was, and he was going to puke, then run screaming from the house, never to be heard from again. After a little while, Dean heard Sam shuffle around, go into the kitchen, use the other bathroom, and go back into the bedroom. Just because he hadn’t freaked out yet, didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to. He had told Dean himself that he had never been with a man like that. Dean was just waiting for some sort of gay-sex crisis to hit. 

When Dean was finished relieving, and subsequently cleaning himself, he slowly opened the door. Sam was propped up at the head of the bed, comforter laying low across his hips, reading one of Dean’s magazines. His hair was still sticking out at odd angles, and Dean could swear that he’d never seen anything as gorgeous. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about standing there naked staring at his little brother lying, presumably naked, in his bed, Dean made the move to cover himself up as he continued to stand there. He was making things awkward, and he had no idea why, or how to fix it. 

“You just gonna stand there?” Sam smiled over the magazine at him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Um, I just-” Dean stopped himself and took in a deep breath. “I never answered your question.”

Sam put down the magazine and gave Dean his full attention. “That’s alright.” Sam nodded, then added with a chuckle, “I mean, this is weird, right?” 

Relief flooded through him. He was terrified that it was just him. How could it be, they had known each other their whole lives, and within the last six hours they had turned their entire relationship on its head. “Yeah. I don’t really know what to do here.”

“I think you’ve got a better idea than I do.” 

Sam had a point. Dean had never been picky about who he went out with, or had sex with for that matter. Out of the two of them, Dean should have the most confidence. He would have, had it been anyone but his baby brother in his bed. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Dean shook his head. Sammy had always been the ‘sharing is caring’ type, but Dean had always been more of the ‘deflect and repress’ philosophy. “If you’re good, I’m good. But it is weird. I’ve spent my whole life trying to not do anything about this, and now you’re basically begging to fuck me. It’s just-”

“A lot,” Sam finished, then dropped his voice and added, “But I’m not _begging you_ for anything.” The look that Sam leveled at Dean made his knees go weak. 

Sammy was definitely going to kill him, and Dean was absolutely going to thank him for it. Dean felt himself blush again, and his cock swelled where it was being hidden behind his hands. Sam let his eyes wander over Dean’s exposed body; they lingered where his hands were at his crotch, then worked their way back to his face. Dean's entire body flushed under the heat from Sam's gaze. He shifted uncomfortably as he waited for whatever would happen next; he found it nearly impossible to make a move.

Sam seemed to sense his inability to make a decision and rose up to his knees, the blanket folding over on itself as he moved. Dean watched, slack-jawed, as his baby brother crawled to the foot of the bed then reached out for him. Dean mindlessly took a step forward, hands still covering his now fully hardened cock. Sam held Dean’s eye contact as he slid his fingers to his bare hips and gave him a squeeze. Sam’s eyes flicked down and watched hungrily as Dean tried to wet his lips with his tongue. 

Sam, on his knees, on Dean’s bed, was just about the same height as Dean. It had been years since Sam had been noticeably shorter than Dean, and it was a little jarring now. Dean had gotten so used to looking up at him, he had almost forgotten that Sammy had been so little for most of their lives. Dean slowly broke the hold he had on his own hands and ran his fingers along Sam’s new and impressive biceps. He was definitely not the scrawny, gangly kid Dean had felt like he needed to protect their whole lives, anymore. Over the course of the last year alone, Sam had grown almost an entire foot and had really started to fill out. 

As Dean studied and appreciated Sam’s body, his little brother did the same thing. Letting his eyes and hands roam all over him, feeling the muscles under his too pale, freckled skin. When Dean got to the top of Sam’s shoulders and moved to run his fingers through his hair, Sam leaned forward and licked a wide stripe around Dean’s nipple and stopped with a kiss just below his collarbone. Dean’s grip tightened in his hair, and Sam let out a guttural groan and nuzzled deeper into Dean’s neck. He quickly added ‘hair pulling’ to the list of things that drove Sam wild. 

Dean rocked back on his heels and pulled Sam away from him by his hair. Sam’s eyes were wild and unfocused as they searched Dean, trying to understand what was happening. After a moment, Sam shocked Dean by doing something that he hadn’t done in almost two years. He reached up and stroked Dean’s temple by his left eye.

Dean closed his eyes and let himself remember. That was the spot John had busted right before they left to branch out on their own. It was the stretch of skin that Sam himself had stitched shut for him that night, so long ago, in that grimy hotel room. That scar was a symbol of their freedom, a permanent reminder that they would both do anything for the other.

Dean smirked and shook his head at the memory of those first few months on their own. All the self-doubt and self-hate, the feelings of inadequacy that ate him alive day and night. Was he really able to take care of Sammy the way he needed it, was Dean really any better than John? Looking at his brother now, an over six-foot-tall giant, well-built nerd; Dean figured he did alright. Which made what they were about to do, what they had already done, even more profound than Dean had previously thought it to be. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sam’s voice was soft, his hand still on Dean’s face.

“Nothing. Just remembering how it was when we first left. How shitty everything was. But it all led to right now.” Dean took a beat as the gravity of that realization sank in. Sam’s lips turned into a small smile. “So, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

Sam let his hands fall as he sat back on his heels. “It wasn’t all bad.” He leaned farther back and began to scoot to the head of the bed. “As I remember it, we had quite a few good times.” By the time Sam was done talking, he was leaning against the headboard and stroking himself. It was lewd and Dean could come just from watching him. 

Dean had to clear his throat to speak. “Yeah, not all bad, at all.” He set his hands on the foot of the bed and moved forward, placing himself between his brother’s long legs. 

Sam’s legs were bent at the knees, and Dean turned his head to place a kiss on the inside of his leg, just above the knee. His skin was still sleep-warm and soft under his lips. Dean was instantly starving for the taste of his brother’s skin. He kissed and licked his way up Sam’s thigh and before taking his cock out of his hand. Dean looked up into Sam’s eyes, he was silently asking permission; this was another line they were crossing, he needed to make sure Sam was still okay with what they were doing. There was no going back after this. 

Eyes still locked on Dean’s, Sam lowered his hand to the base of his dick and tilted it toward Dean’s mouth. That was all the reassurance Dean needed to wrap his lips around his brother and take him as far as he could into his mouth. Sam, honest to God, moaned and threw his head back. Dean vowed to pull every sound he could from his brother’s lips by the end of the day. He wanted to drink in every moment. 

Dean closed his eyes and focused on the heaviness of Sam’s cock in his mouth, the spit-slick skin sliding between his lips. He used every trick he had in his arsenal, ones he’d learned over the years either from doing it himself or having it done to him. Some “totally straight” guys who wanted “to know what it would be like” had some pretty killer moves. Dean swirled and pressed his tongue, used his lips to massage, and used his hands to grab what wasn’t fitting into his mouth, as well as Sam’s balls. Within minutes Dean made Sam an incoherent, sweaty, sticky mess. He was alternating between cursing and blessing Dean’s name, and when Dean pulled himself away, Sam made the most glorious whiny noise Dean had ever heard. 

“De….” Sam dragged his name out in a plea. The neediness in his brother’s voice was almost too much for Dean to take. 

“You’re welcome,” Dean answered. Sam opened his eyes to look at him with exasperation, then reached out for him. “I’m right here, little brother,” Dean said as he moved his way over Sam’s body until he could reach his lips with his own. 

Sam hummed into the kiss and gripped Dean by the hair on the back of his head so forcefully that Dean was sure he’d be missing some strands by the time he let go. Dean couldn’t give a shit about whatever Sam was doing to him, as long as he kept on doing it. He had never wanted anything so much in his entire life. As they kissed, Sam was pawing at him, trying to arrange Dean into a more satisfactory position in his lap. Dean could tell that Sam was getting impatient, so he straddled his hips and held himself just out of reach of Sam’s cock. 

Sam rutted forward and grabbed Dean’s hips so tight that Dean could feel the bruises begin to blossom. “Need you,” Sam demanded. 

“Not goin’ anywhere, Sammy.”

“De, please.” Sam must have sensed Dean’s hesitancy and stilled himself. “What’s wrong? Do you not want to-”

“It’s not that. I just… I wanna savor this. We won’t ever get this again. There’s no going back for me.”

“Me, neither. I want this Dean. More than anything.” Sam finished his thought in Dean’s neck as he began kissing and licking at the sweat that had built up there. He ran his fingers lightly down Dean’s back, gripped both of his ass cheeks, and squeezed them tightly. 

Dean could hardly hold himself up any longer, desperate for Sam to have his way with him. Trying not to pull himself too far away from his brother, Dean reached for the nightstand where he kept his lube, pulled the bottle out and snapped the lid open. He pulled Sam’s right hand off of his ass and drizzled some of the cool liquid onto two of Sam’s fingers. Dean doubted he’d have the patience to wait for three fingers once Sam was inside of him; Sam’s hands were massive, and Dean had already worked himself open a little bit while cleaning himself earlier. 

He recapped the bottle and tossed it to the side, then led Sam’s hand back around him. Dean let go of Sam’s wrist in order to hold himself open for Sam to be able to get at him properly. Dean hissed in a breath as his brother’s cool fingers found his hot hole. Sam was watching Dean, probably looking for signs that he wasn’t doing something right. Dean remembered that, as much as he said that he wanted this, Sam had zero practical experience. 

“You’re doin’ great, Sammy. Just go slow, feel your way around. Start with one; you’ll know when I’m ready for the other one.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and he nodded his understanding. “And you’ll let me know if I don’t do something right?”

Dean rocked his hips back and one of Sam’s slick fingers pressed harder onto where Dean needed it. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem; but you gotta do something before it can be wrong, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes flashed at the challenge and Dean barely had time to smirk before Sam started to shove one of his fingers in. There was nothing shy or bashful or hesitant about it. He took his time, eased it in, but he never stopped, never eased up on the pressure. It was steady and measured and consistent, just like Sam. It was perfect. 

Dean was fighting the urge to fuck himself down of his brother’s hand by the time Sam got down to the first knuckle. They were both sweating and Dean was trying to hold still, he didn’t want to do anything that might spook his brother; even with a finger in his ass, Dean was waiting for the realization to strike either one of them. There was no way that fate would let them have this: each other, happiness. 

Sam slowly started to wiggle his finger around, feeling around, just like Dean had told him to. Sammy was a smart kid; he had to know what he was looking for, it was just a matter of-

“Umpf!” Dean almost collapsed as Sam pressed into his prostate for the first time. He was so pent up, and it had honestly been a while since he had bottomed, that he had almost forgotten what it was like to have his prostate massaged. “Ooooh… mmm… Sam- my… uuungh,” Dean strung together whatever sounds he could, to sing his brother’s praises. 

Dean didn’t have to say anything for Sam to know when it was time to add the second finger. Dean was loosening up quickly. He had wanted this for so long, and his body didn’t want to wait any longer, either. Once Sam had two fingers to work with, he alternated between scissoring them to stretch Dean open and rubbing them incessantly over his prostate. 

Dean tried to clear his head and transform a semi-coherent thought into words. “Yo- you… study f-for this… or someth- uuh!”

Sam’s breath was hot in his ear when he answered. “Or somethin’. Gonna get you nice and ready for me, big brother.” Sam’s voice was like liquid fire pouring through Dean’s veins.

“So… ready, ba- baby brother!” Dean responded, smooth as ever.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Damn, Sammy… need you so bad.” Dean could barely get the words out. 

Dean wasn’t even getting fucked, yet, and he was already incoherent. Dean was about to come all over the both of them, just from two of Sam’s fingers in his ass. He was like a tween watching porn for the first time. He wanted more. 

“‘Mm good, Sammy,” Dean moaned as he maneuvered himself to sit over Sam’s cock.

“You are needy, aren’t you?” Sam chuckled at him, but removed his fingers, leaving Dean feeling utterly empty. “Um, is it better for you this way?” he asked, sincerely curious. 

“I’m good any way, Sammy.”

“I want it to be good for you.” He looked so earnest. 

“Alright.” Dean paused to clear his head. Sam wanted this to be good for Dean, but it was also Sam’s first time doing this, so it needed to be good for him, too. “So, do you, um, wanna be the one in control or-”

“Yes.” Sam’s voice was hard but not unkind. 

Dean chuckled a little at his brother’s eagerness. “Okay, then I’m going to switch places with you.” He leaned forward and to the side, and Sam followed his lead, leaning forward and to the other side. “I’m just gonna….” Once he was able, he grabbed a pillow to put under his head, and another to tuck under his ass. “Alright. Now you just need-” Dean cut himself off as he watched Sam drizzle lube over himself and rub it all over. 

“Or do I need a-”

“We’re both clean, tested. I’m cool, if you’re cool.” There was nothing Dean wanted more than for his brother to fuck him bare; they had waited so long for this moment, he didn’t want anything between them.

Sam nodded, recapped the lube, and tossed it to the other side of the bed. Dean’s heart was pounding out of his chest; he could not believe that this was about to happen. This was a turning point in their lives. Neither one of them would be able to go back after taking this next step. Dean was more than ready. He wiggled his hips to get into a comfortable position before Sam leaned over him, covering him with his body. Sam looked him in the eye then leaned down to kiss him, so tenderly Dean thought that his heart was going to shatter. 

Somehow, while Sam was kissing Dean stupid, he settled his cockhead right at Dean’s entrance. He pushed himself against him, then broke the kiss. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was holding his breath. He looked like he was trying too hard to focus, Dean almost laughed. 

“It’s tight, but it’ll fit, Sammy. Just take your time.” Dean ran his hands up Sam’s arms, grabbed his shoulders from under his arms, and shoved himself down harder, trying to take Sam in more. 

Sam almost pulled himself away, but his tip was breaching Dean’s outer muscles and the stretch was just what Dean had been waiting for. When he groaned at the feeling, Sam took it as the encouragement it was, and pushed in more. When his head was finally situated past that final ring of muscle, he let out a shuddery breath and smiled down at Dean. Sweat was dripping from his brow and his eyes were full of the same level of amazement that Dean was feeling. 

Dean smirked up at him and gave him a nod for him to keep moving. It felt like ages, but when Sam finally bottomed out, Dean had never felt so stretched out in his entire life. Sam took a few settling breaths, and Dean marveled at his control. Dean knew what it felt like; he could almost remember his first time topping. He could never have stayed there, fully seated, and not started fucking some guy senseless. 

“Sammy?” Dean wanted to make sure that after everything they’d done, this wasn’t the moment he was going to lose him. 

“I’m good; I’m just trying not to come right now. You’re so tight, De. _Fuck_.” Sam rested his head in the crook of Dean’s neck and took in some more deep breaths between kissing him wherever he could reach. 

Dean’s ass flexed with every kiss, which caused Sam to moan and kiss him again. They seemed to be stuck in a vicious circle. “Fuck, Sammy. I need you to fuck me.” 

“Sorry, I just- I’ve never felt anything like this before.” His voice was thick and ragged; Dean had never heard anything as sublime as Sam’s sex-wrecked voice. 

“I know; it’s different.” Dean knew Sam was talking about more than just having his dick in an ass for the first time. It felt more real, like they were live wires being spliced together and made whole. 

Sam pulled out until only his head was left in, then slowly worked his way back in. He did that a few times, perhaps to get used to the feel of it, maybe to measure how deep his thrust needed to be, and once he was comfortable with it, he started picking up speed. Dean could do nothing but hang on as Sam slammed into him over and over again; hitting his prostate with every thrust, like he’d studied to fuck Dean, specifically. He alternated between having his fingers woven through Sam’s hair, gripping his back, dug into his shoulders, or grabbing his ass, urging him to thrust deeper.

Dean had fucked a lot of people, and been fucked by his fair share, but no one had ever fucked him this good. He wasn’t being biased because it was his little brother’s dick spearing him like never before. He honest to God couldn’t think of another time where he even thought that he could come untouched, and here he was, seconds away from blowing his load all over himself as Sammy rammed into him. 

Sam must have sensed that Dean was near his end and turned his head to whisper roughly into his ear, “Come for me, big brother.” Then he sucked Dean’s earlobe into his mouth and pulled it back out through his teeth. 

Another thing Dean had never been able to manage was coming on command. That day was a day of many firsts. Before Sam had relinquished his ear lobe, Dean was screaming, “Fuck… Sammy,” as he arched and came all over both of their chests and stomachs. It seemed like he was never going to stop; spurt after spurt splattered their torsos with every thrust of Sam’s hips. 

Dean could hardly breathe as he lay there while Sam finished himself off; his limp cock still trying to pulse back to life between them. It didn’t take much longer, just a few more thrusts while Dean squeezed him, and a well-timed pull of Sam’s hair and his hips faltered. He was no longer hitting Dean’s prostate head-on, and his thrusts were erratic. Dean moaned and pulled Sam in for a kiss, then Sam slammed and stayed in Dean’s ass as he released himself. Dean could feel each jerk of his cock as his brother came; it was a feeling he wanted to relive daily until they were so sick of each other that they would swear never to fuck again. He hoped that would never happen. 

Sam breathed heavily into Dean’s neck, then laughed. Dean figured that was the most favorable reaction to what they’d just done. As long as Sammy was happy, Dean didn’t give a shit about anything else. 

“Fuck, Sammy.” Dean felt Sam’s dick twitch in his ass. “You still going, or what?” It was Dean’s turn to laugh.

Sam laughed as he halfheartedly started to thrust into him again. He moaned into Dean’s neck as their skin pulled against each other’s. Dean held onto Sam tight, feeling his warmth surround him, his weight cover him, his sweat-matted hair fan over his face. Sam nibbled playfully at Dean’s ear and they both laughed. 

“You’re like a puppy,” Dean noted, then yelped when Sam licked him up the side of his face. “Gross, dude!”

Sam laughed a full-body laugh, causing his softened cock to slip free. “Dude, you’ve got my come dripping out of your ass, and I can’t lick your face?” As soon as he said it, he must have realized that it would be true.

Sam sobered up and leaned back on his heels to get a look at Dean’s ass. Dean’s legs were still bent at the knees, and he spread them wider for Sam to get a better look at him. Sam reached out and pushed on Dean’s leg behind the knee and almost folded him in on himself so that he could take the pillow out from underneath him. Once that was gone, Sam kept his legs spread and locked his eyes onto his ass. 

Dean had never felt so open and vulnerable before. He felt like he was being inspected. Sam, of course, had never seen a fucked-out asshole before, so Dean didn’t say anything; just let him look, regarding his handiwork. Dean relaxed his muscles and smiled when Sam took in a sharp breath as his come started to ooze out even more. He looked like he was watching the most spectacular thing happen. Dean loved getting to watch Sam experience all of this for the first time; he wasn’t jaded like Dean had obviously become. 

Sam took a finger and pressed it into Dean, scooping out some more of his come and then closed his eyes as he brought his finger to his mouth. It was like watching the most disturbing, hottest porn he could imagine. Dean was in even more awe than he had been that morning, watching his baby brother finger his come out of his ass and lick his fingers clean. He was mesmerizing; Sam was something else altogether, and he was _everything_ to Dean.

“You’re thinking about eating your come out of my ass, aren’t you, Sammy?” Dean flexed his hole again and watched Sam’s face flush and his eyes go even wider. 

Sam shook his head and let go of Dean’s leg. “Um, well… honestly?” He moved Dean’s hips so that he rolled over, laying down facing toward him. “Yeah, I was. I’ve just never- like with girls, it’s- oh, God, I am _not_ thinking straight right now!” They both laughed, again. “I just had the best sex, _of my life_, with my big brother. I need a few minutes.”

“So, you’re not freaking out?” Dean hated to ask, truly afraid of what would happen if the answer was yes, but needing to check-in, anyway. 

“I mean, yes….” 

Dean froze, but Sam held him closer and continued. 

“But, no.” 

Dean waited while Sam collected his thoughts. 

“Like, I’m not freaking out because I just fucked my brother, but I am because that was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had, and, I don’t know, man.” Sam’s brow furrowed and his lips pulled at the edges as he thought about exactly what he wanted to say. “It was more than just a physical thing? Ya know? Like, we were… more than just fucking. I’m not even making any sense right now.”

Dean gripped Sam’s arm that was draped over his side. “No, I get it. It was great sex, but it was also more of a connection than just that. I think it’s because of… fuck man, I’m the one that said no chick-flick moments.” Dean shook his head and Sam laughed. 

“Yeah, I get it.” 

Sam smiled and Dean felt a sense of peace wash over him as they came down off of their endorphin highs, wrapped in each other’s arms. He had never let himself be completely vulnerable with any of his clients before, always kept himself aloof, guarded, even. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind while he’d been with Sam, either time. He was open and willing to do whatever Sam wanted. It was a terrifying feeling but also remarkably freeing. Now that he knew Sam wanted him, too, Dean belonged completely to his baby brother.


	6. Chapter 6

[ ](https://imgur.com/dCstJ2x)

They quietly lay in bed together after Sam had gotten a warm, damp washcloth and cleaned them both off. Sam knew the moment that Dean fell asleep. He would always nuzzle into his pillow just after falling asleep, not that Sam had made it a habit of watching his brother while he slept, but sharing a bed for as long as they did, he’d noticed some things over the years. Sam realized exactly how long it had been that he’d wanted to be in exactly this position; post-coitally blissful, holding his fucked-out brother in his arms, warm, safe, and happy. 

Sam had not expected to feel so… whole, maybe... after having sex with his brother. Apparently, Dean had thought that he would freak out. He had kept looking at him like he was going to run screaming any second. The look in his eyes had been so full of fear and hope and it broke Sam’s heart to think that his brother didn’t know exactly how much Sam truly loved him; in every sense of the word. Sam had his work cut out for him, making his brother believe, not only that he loved him, but also that he deserved to be loved. Sam drifted off to sleep thinking of all the ways he could show Dean how much he loved and appreciated everything Dean had ever done for him. 

****

When Sam woke up it was dark outside. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand told him that it was after seven. His arm was asleep from where Dean’s head was on his bicep. He wiggled his fingers trying to get feeling back in his limb. Dean mumbled something and shifted in his sleep, moving just enough for the numb sensation in Sam’s arm to morph into pins and needles. Taking his chance, Sam slipped his arm out from under Dean’s head and rolled onto his back. Dean whined but stayed asleep, so Sam gently removed himself from the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

After he was finished and had splashed some water on his face, he went to his old room, found some of his clothes that he still kept there, and got dressed. He was starving, so he went to the kitchen to see if he could find something to fix for dinner. While he was digging through the cabinets, a gruff mumble accompanied by shuffling alerted him to Dean’s presence. He walked over to the fridge and opened it.

“Ain’t nothin’. We’ll have to go get something. Or order in. Whatever you want.” Dean’s voice was heavy with sleep, and it made Sam smile. Dean grabbed two bottles of water and handed one to Sam.

“What are you hungry for?” Sam asked, not feeling very picky himself, as long as it was filling and quick. Dean looked at him, the heat in his eyes answer enough. “Foodwise, Dean. We need to eat something.”

Dean smirked and shrugged, still half asleep. “Dunno. I’m always good for burgers.”

Sam thought about it. Burgers had meat and were filling, but they needed something with more sustenance. Sam thought about their missed dinner this past week and how long it had been since they’d gone out for Mexican. As soon as he had the thought, he was ravenous for a plate of tamales and Spanish rice. “What about Celia’s?”

“Mexican? Yeah, I could go for some fajitas.” Dean scrunched his face like he had only just realized that would mean putting clothes on and leaving the house. “Can we call it in?”

Sam laughed. “Sure, I can go pick it up and bring it back here.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “I’m gonna get cleaned up.” He turned to leave Sam to call in their order, then added, “Order some sopapillas, too.”

“Sure thing; anything else? Steak, right?”

“Yep, that’ll do me, unless you want something else.”

Sam shook his head. “Alright, I’ll call it in.”

Dean went back into his bedroom and while Sam was putting in their order he heard him shuffling around. It sounded like he was switching out the bedding. He couldn’t imagine the mess that they’d created all over Dean’s sheets and comforter. He felt like he should help, but when he walked in, the bed already had new sheets on it and Dean was carrying everything to the washing machine. He stepped out of the way, and couldn’t resist slapping Dean on the ass as he made his way down the short hallway with his arms full. 

“Yeah, you like that ass, don’t you?” Dean joked. 

Sam felt his face heat up, still getting used to being able to do and say things like that with his brother. He cleared his throat and answered, “Maybe a little bit.”

“You know you do,” Dean yelled back from the laundry room. 

“Alright, well, I’m going to go get dinner. You good here?” Sam wasn’t sure why he asked, maybe because they hadn’t been apart since that morning, since they’d crossed all those lines that had been in place their whole lives. 

The washing machine started to fill with water, then Dean was walking back down the hall toward where Sam was still standing. “I’m fine, Sammy. I’m gonna take a shower while you’re gone. I have lived on my own before, you know?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I know, I’m just-”

“Worried that I’m gonna freak out and dive back into the bottom of a bottle in the next twenty minutes?” Dean gave Sam the you-should-know-better look. “Just like I’m worried you’re going to drive off and never come back again.” 

It was Sam’s turn to give Dean a look. “I could never leave you, Dean.”

“I know that, Sammy. But that’s not going to keep me from worrying, is it? Let’s just say that we’re both going to be worried, and we’re both going to be fine.” Sam nodded his acquiescence. “Now, go get me some food!” Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulder, and only paused for a second before giving him a quick peck on the lips and swatting at his ass to get him moving. 

“Alright, alright!” Sam laughed all the way out of the house. 

He made good time driving to the restaurant and their order was waiting for him when he got there. The smell of the food in his car was making his stomach churn, he had to resist the urge to reach in and eat the chips all the way back to Dean’s house. When he walked into the kitchen, he was greeted with a freshly showered brother, in nothing but a low hanging pair of gym shorts. If Sam’s stomach hadn’t been gurgling with hunger, he’s pretty sure he would have had Dean for dinner instead of the Mexican food hanging limply at his side. 

Dean smirked at him and checked out the growing bulge in his pants. “See something you like, Sammy?” 

Hearing Dean say that reminded Sam of quite a few times when Sam would come home to see Dean jerking off. He had said the same thing then. ‘You see something you like, Sammy?’ Sam had always just written it off to seeing something sexual happening that you’re not supposed to see, like when you walk down the hall and see a guy with his hand up a girl’s shirt. It’s a private moment, but you can’t make yourself look away. The term ‘voyeurism’ had been something that Sam had identified with when he’d learned about it; but now, it was more likely that Sam had just always been attracted to his big brother. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Well, yeah.” _Smooth_, Sam thought to himself. He’d known his brother his entire life, how was he supposed to be able to flirt with him now?

“Real smooth, Sam.” Dean chuckled and raised his eyebrows at him. “You just gonna stand there staring all night, or do you have something for me to eat?”

Sam shook his head and laughed then carried the bag of food over to the table. Dean immediately dug in, divvying out the contents. Neither one of them spoke while they ate, being too hungry to worry about the things they were, no doubt, both trying to sort through. By the time they had each eaten enough to slow down, Dean went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. He popped the top on one and handed it to Sam before doing the same with the other and taking a long chug out of the bottle. He sat back down and loaded up another tortilla with the steak and veggie mixture. 

“So.” Dean started speaking, not taking his eyes away from his fajita project. “We should talk.”

Sam felt like he did when he was eight and Dean had sat him down to explain to him why they had to move around so much. Of course, they had to talk, what they were doing was insane, and if anyone found out… Sam was suddenly nauseous and couldn’t bear to take another bite. “Yeah, you’re right.”

They both sat in silence while Dean finished building his fajita. He took a bite, then looked up and saw that Sam wasn’t eating his food. “We can talk and eat at the same time, ya know?”

“Yeah, I just-” Sam’s lip twitched as he tried to figure out how to end his sentence, and he looked down at his hands in his lap. 

“Sammy, we’re both on the same page. We’re both fucked up here, and I’m not going to take back anything that I’ve said or anything we’ve done together. I don’t regret a second of it.”

Sam felt a little bit of the weight he’d been carrying lift. He smiled and picked up his fork and cut off a piece of tamale. “That’s good to hear. Me, too, or me, neither. I’ve never let myself really acknowledge those feelings, so it’s all a little overwhelming.”

“Tell me about it.” Dean nodded his understanding and took a bite of his fajita while Sam ate another bite of his tamale. 

“So, then what did you want to talk about?”

“This sounds so stupid.” Dean shook his head. Watching his cheeks flush was quickly becoming one of Sam’s favorite things. “Us. This, whatever it is; how we’re going to be doing things going forward. You know, that kinda stuff.”

“You really are gorgeous when you get flustered.” Sam decided that getting embarrassed about things wasn’t going to help either of them move forward; they both needed to just push through this awkward stage. “You mean like doing things, or like _doing things_?” Sam motioned between the two of them and put extra emphasis on the words the second time to get his meaning across. 

Dean seemed to think for a second before answering. “Both?” He sounded so unsure, it was a little unnerving. Out of the two of them, Sam figured Dean would be the one with more of a plan.

“Um, okay. So, do you wanna talk about living together again, or-”

“No, Sammy. You need to stay with your friends and keep up your schoolwork. I’d only be a distraction.”

“I can control myself, Dean.” Sam hated to sound like a child, but sometimes he couldn’t help it when Dean was treating him like one.

“Well, maybe you could, but I couldn’t. If you were here all the time... God, Sammy. Even right now, all I can think about is getting your dick in me again.”

Sam choked and took a sip of his beer. “Okay, I guess I didn’t realize how needy you were. I figured with all the extra work you must get that-”

“That’s another thing. I’m not going to quit.” From his tone and the hard look in his eye, Sam didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. 

Sam’s response was quiet. “Right. Um, would you still,” Sam cleared his throat before continuing, “would you still be fucking people?” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean after he asked, so he settled for watching his fork play with the corn husks on his plate. 

“That’s something that we need to talk about.” 

Sam nodded, but still didn’t look up from his plate, suddenly feeling quite small. 

“Sammy, come on, man. Look at me.” 

Sam put his fork down and lifted his head, still unable to quite look his brother in the eye. 

“Over here,” Dean said when Sam’s eyes shifted to his freckled shoulder instead of his eyes.

Sam smiled a little and rolled his eyes then finally met Dean’s. “What?”

“It’s not going to be easy, but I can stop taking on those clients if it upsets you. That’s where most of the big money comes from, but I’ll figure out a way to make it work.” 

Sam thought about what Dean said, what he was actually saying to him. Dean had said that he liked what he did; he enjoyed it. Dean was saying that he would stop doing something that he liked if that’s what Sam wanted him to do. Once again, Dean was putting Sam first. “You said that you liked it; doing what you do. Is,” Sam took a deep breath, not sure that he wanted to know the answer to his question, “is that part of what you like about it?” 

Dean seemed to have anticipated his question and answered without thinking. “Yes. Part of it, anyways. I like making people feel good, and some of these people, it’s like no one has ever put their needs first. It makes me feel like I’m doing some good in the world.”

“Wow. I guess I never really thought about it like that before.” Sam only wondered briefly if Dean was only justifying what he’s had to do for money. The idea was quickly dismissed when Sam realized that it had been long enough that Dean would know how he felt about something, and if he really did have a problem with it, he would be honest with him about it. 

“Yeah, so, like I said. If it’s going to be a problem for you, I can work something out.”

“If it’s really something that you like doing, who am I to take that away from you? You’ve already given up so much for me already. I just want you to be happy. And if it’s cheaper for me to live here-”

“Sammy, you’re a freshman in college, you need to be out there living your life, having fun, fucking up. You don’t need to be living with your big brother, even if we are fucking around.” Dean chuckled at his bluntness and took another bite of his fajita. 

“So, is that what we’re doing.” Sam made the hand motion again, indicating the two of them. “We’re brothers who fuck when we want to?”

“Jesus, when you say it like that, Sammy.” Dean shook his head. “I mean, it’s not like we can date, right? We’ve known each other for too long to have to play the getting to know you game. I’m sure there’s people, even here, that know we’re brothers. Cindy isn’t one of them, but Brady has to know, right?”

“I don’t know if he knows we’re brothers, but he knows we meet up for dinner and brunch and stuff. You’re the one that helped me move in. He knows that we know each other. He might have figured you’re my brother.” Sam shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter if he did, we could tell him otherwise. Um-” Sam stopped himself from bringing up Jess, but she was going to have to be brought up eventually. “Jess saw us kissing at the frat party.”

Dean squeezed his eyes and lips shut and gave a single nod. “What did she say?”

Sam smiled to himself. “She was actually really cool about it. Said that it was fine if I was bi, that we’re just having fun.” Sam laughed at the memory, she was so sweet and he had been so furious that he almost forgot about her saying anything about it. “She’s actually a really cool girl.”

“Awe, baby brother’s got a crush.” Dean crooned. “She is hot, hey you think maybe she’d-”

“Dean!” Sam couldn’t believe that Dean was already suggesting threesomes. What if one of them slipped up and called the other brother? She’d haul ass; everyone would find out about it. No matter how cool she was, something like that… it was just too much to risk it. 

“What? You don’t wanna share?”

“No. I mean- it’s not like that. This is still new, and what if you called me baby brother while she’s with us? What is she going to think?”

He pursed his lips as he actually thought about it. “So, that wasn’t really a ‘no’.” He smiled and Sam’s heart leapt in his chest. 

“No, it wasn’t. Jerk.”

“Don’t be such a little bitch.” 

“So. You’re still gonna do what you do, and I’m going to keep doing what I do....”

“And when we want to we can do what we do.” Dean raised his eyebrows when he smiled up at Sam through his ridiculously long lashes. 

Sam smiled back and shoved his mostly empty tray away from him. “_Whenever_ we want?”

“Oh, hell yeah!”

“Okay, then, I think I wanna suck you off.”

“Awe, Sammy, I thought you’d never ask.” Dean stood, reached out for Sam’s hand, and walked him to the living room where he pulled his shorts down under his ass and sat on the couch, spreading his knees wide. “Whatever you want, baby brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, let me know what you think!


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